Miracle
by Ketharil
Summary: 2 Chapters Up. Post-NJO. Kyp thought that Jaina loving him was a miracle. When she loses her memory, can the miracle occur again, or is once all he's given? KJ. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 1 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

She woke gradually, lazily, as though she wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to be conscious or not.  But blurry faces hovered before her, vaguely familiar and welcoming, so Jaina forced her eyes open and turned her head.

            "Welcome back, young lady," her father said, helping her slump upright.  "We were starting to get worried."

            When had her father grown so old?  Why did sadness lurk in his eyes?

            "You've been in bacta for a while," her mother told her, wrapping one of the medical blankets over her shoulders.  "The droids took you out today; they said you might wake up soon."

            When had her mother cut her hair?  How had she become so frail?

            Jacen shook his head.  "You got lucky, twin," he told her, tugging her hair lightly.  "If you hadn't been able to land, we wouldn't have been able to get to you."

            When had Jacen grown up?  Where was the lanky teenager she was used to?

            A rough hand stroked her cheek, and Jaina recognized Kyp Durron's concerned face.  "Hey, Goddess," he said softly.

            Goddess?  What was Kyp doing here?

            She looked around the room, confused.  "Where am I?  This isn't the Temple."

            Jacen looked as confused as she felt.  "Temple?  No, you're in the medical wing of the Council's Complex."

            Jaina had figured she was in a medical bay of some sort, since the walls were stark white and smelled faintly of bacta.  But- Council's Complex?  That didn't sound familiar.  She shook her head, trying to realign her thoughts.  "What happened to the _Crystal_?"  She switched her gaze onto Han.  "Dad?  What happened?"

            Han's eyes went from confusion to sudden horror.  "The _Crystal_?"

            "Something went wrong with it."  Jaina shut her eyes and frowned, trying to remember.  She remembered the Headhunter's tight cockpit, the joy of flying, the panic that came with trouble . . .   "I think a thruster went out."  She opened her eyes.  "Did I land all right?  What happened?"

            "Jaina, honey . . ."  That was her mother; Jaina turned to face her.  She was older, smaller, somehow more delicate than Jaina remembered.  But now Leia's face was etched with concern.  "Are you sure you're all right?"

            She pulled herself straight, and stretched.  "I feel fine.  Bacta works wonders."  She ended her sentence with a yawn, and grinned sheepishly.  "I'm just a little tired, but I should be back at the Academy."

            Leia glanced over at Master Durron, and Kyp eased himself down next to her on the medical bed.  "Why don't you get some sleep, love," he suggested.  "It sounds like your brain's still swimming around in the bacta."

            Jaina stared at him.  Had he just called her "love"?  He'd never done that before.  "I feel fine," she said, bewildered.  "What's wrong?  What's going on?"  She frantically looked around at the four people gathered around her bed, all of whom seemed reluctant to meet her eyes.  "What happened?  What's wrong?"

            Her mother finally looked up, and Jaina was shocked to see her eyes shining bright with tears.  Suspicion, terrifying and sharp, flooded through Jaina's mind.  Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and no one wanted to tell her the truth of what had happened.  She tensed, and her panicked gaze quickly recounted the people in the room.

            "Something's wrong.  Where's Anakin?  Is Anakin all right?"  Her gaze skipped over Kyp, and returned to her father.  "Why's Kyp here?"

            Han looked horrified, but before he could speak, Jacen cut in.  "Jaina, how many fingers am I holding up?"

            She blinked at her brother.  "Three.  I'm fine, Jacen, you don't need to worry."

            "You hit your head pretty hard," her twin said calmly, though she could sense the roiling turmoil within him.  "What color is Mom's vest?"

            "Dark blue.  Honestly, I can't have hit my head that hard.  I take after Dad."

            But he persisted.  "What color is your lightsaber?"

            "Violet.  Where is it?"  She hadn't noticed it was missing.

            "We put it away for safekeeping," Jacen said.  "When's our next birthday?"

            She laughed.  "Not for a while.  We just had one a few days ago."

            No one said a word, and Jaina was suddenly afraid that she _had_ hit her head a bit too hard and given the wrong answer.  Her voice was small.  "Didn't we?"

            Jacen stared at her for a long moment.  "Jaina, how old are we?"

            Her eyes darted around the room.  "Sixteen," she whispered.  "Aren't we?"  Her voice was pleading.

            Kyp swore something she couldn't fully translate and lurched to his feet, turning to the wall and staring at nothing in silence.  Jacen simply stared at her; her parents both looked teary.  "Mom?" she begged.  "Dad?  What happened?"

            Her mother reached out to take both her hands.  "Jaina, sweetie, I think you hit your head a bit harder than we thought."

            "I'm not sixteen," Jaina said dully.  "How long have I been unconscious?"

            "Four days," Jacen said.  He ran a hand through his hair.  "Only four days."

            "But-"

            "You're twenty-six, Jaina," Han said flatly.

            "Han!"

            Jaina stared at her father blankly.  "Twenty . . . six?" she repeated, dumbfounded.  "_Twenty_ . . . six?"

            "Jaina," her mother began, but in a frenzy of activity, Jaina pushed back the blankets and swung her legs over the bed.  She managed to stand well enough, but two steps toward the mirror and she was dizzy.  Her brother steadied her, and she forced herself to look in the mirror that hung before her.

            No, she wasn't sixteen anymore.  She was an adult- still short, which was sadly obvious in the way Jacen towered above her, but her features were sharper and more defined.  Her hair was longer than she remembered, since tangled though it was, it fell to her midback.  Even her eyes no longer seemed to be the same; they were older, more knowing.

            "Twenty-six," she whispered.  "Ten years."  She felt like crying.  "Ten years gone."  She allowed her brother to lead her back to the bed, where she sat numbly.  "I can't remember.  I can't remember any of it!"  There was an edge of panic to her voice.

            "Hey, hey, calm down," Han instructed, putting a hand on her shoulder.  "Take a deep breath.  Do whatever meditation stuff your uncle taught you.  Calm down for a minute."

            Jaina forced herself through the mediation exercises she had learned at the Jedi Academy.  Finally, she swallowed back tears and looked up at the four people who surrounded her.

            "Ten years is a long time," she said, and didn't like how small her voice was.  "What did I miss?"

            Kyp swore again, and Jaina was surprised to see him fight to keep loss from his face.  "We should get a medic in here first," he said.  "You need to be looked at."

            "All right."  She looked at him, curiously.  "Why are you here?"

            He flinched back as though she had hit him.  "I- we- you . . ."  He gave up and simply looked down at her as though he was imprinting her face into his memory; behind him, her parents reached for each other.  "Do you remember anything?" he asked at last.  "Anything from the War, from afterwards?"

            He sounded so desperate; she wished she could reassure him.  "No," she said softly.  "There was a war?  Did the Empire attack us?"

            Kyp spun away with a low moan, and her mother reached up to put a hand on his arm.  "Why don't you find a medic," she suggested.  "They need to know Jaina's had memory loss."

            He nodded, eyes downcast, and left quietly.  Jaina watched him go, still puzzled.  "Were we friends?" she asked the room in general.

            The silence that greeted her made her nervous.  They had been close, then, and she couldn't remember it.  "I'll take that as a yes," she muttered, and kept her mouth shut.  The room remained silent until Kyp returned with a medical droid; he stood in the corner, watching her longingly– _longingly?  How close had they been?–_ while the droid ran through its tests and a small Chandra Fan healer entered the room.

            "Good morning, Jaina.  It's nice to see you up again," the female said.

            From the familiar tone, Jaina supposed that she had known the healer, but no matter how hard she tried to conjure up a name, none appeared.  "I'm sorry," she said instead.

            "I am Tekli," the Chandra Fan said.  "I have studied under Cilghal for many years now."  She stepped onto a stool and reached a hand out toward Jaina.  "We have worked together often, and if we are not good friends, it is because we have been interested in different pursuits rather than because we do not like each other.  May I?"

            The Jedi's honesty relieved her; Jaina nodded.  Tekli's small hands reached for her forehead.  They were cool to the touch and gentle, and Tekli's eyes fluttered closed just as Jaina felt the first brush of entry into her mind.  She settled back and waited for the healer's assessment.

            It took a few minutes, but Tekli finally pulled away.  "I'm sorry," she said quietly.  "Jaina, you have what appears to be permanent amnesia."

            Jaina ignored the varied exclamations from her family and Kyp, and to keep herself from crying, focused on the healer.  "Will I be able to get my memory back?"

            Tekli could meet her eyes evenly, since the stool put her even with the sitting Jaina.  "It is very doubtful.  You might be able to regain bits and pieces over time, but your brain was very badly bruised in your landing, and you're lucky to be alive as it is.  Perhaps another Jedi might be able to coax memories back, but I wouldn't recommend trying that method for several weeks, as your brain is swollen and it would be best to wait until we are sure there has been no other permanent damage."

            Jaina swallowed but nodded.  "Thank you."

            "Jaina."  Tekli took her hands once more.  "You might not remember who you became over the past ten years, but let me say this: the Jaina Solo that I knew was a good Jedi, a good pilot, and a good person.  I have trusted you with my life before, and I would do so again.  I have seen you at your weakest and at your strongest.  You are a leader that I can respect.  I am not ashamed to have known you."

            Her words gave Jaina back a bit of the confidence she had lost.  "Thank you," she said again.

            "Other than her memory," Tekli said, turning to her parents, "she is physically as well as we could have hoped for after her landing."  She turned back to Jaina.  "You might feel some twinges from your left shoulder for the next few days, but that should be gone by the end of the week.  If it isn't, let me know.  But you're free to go home.  I'll send in a droid with your things."  She turned and waved her hands before her as though she was sweeping the room clean.  "Out, all of you.  She'll meet you out in the waiting room and you can take her home.  Give her time to get dressed."

            Grinning at the image of the tiny Chandra Fan shooing four grown humans out of the room, Jaina accepted two small bags from the medidroid gratefully.  Slipping the thin medical gown off of her shoulders, she stretched out her muscles, feeling the slight pull from her left shoulder, before she turned to the first bag.  It was a simple silver travel case, and she recognized it as being the kind that the medical wing at the Temple had used to collect personal items from its patients.  What she had been wearing when she had been brought to the medical wing in the Council's Complex– whatever _that_ was– would be within the bag.

            Time to learn a bit more about Jaina Solo, age twenty-six.

            She opened the bag and wrinkled her nose.  Tattered remains of a flight suit were carefully lifted out and laid on the bed.  Hopefully the second bag contained real clothes; it looked like a travel bag someone had packed for her.  She turned to it and was delighted to find out that she still preferred comfortable clothes.  Once dressed in the simple brown pants and tan shirt, she returned to the first silver travel case.

            Beneath the remains of what had once been a flight suit was her lightsaber.  Jaina studied it, amazed at how worn it was.  The silver still shone, but the ridge that she habitually rubbed at when she was nervous had nearly disappeared, rubbed down to nothing.  Small nicks covered the surface, and the butt of the handle looked as though it had been dipped in some kind of corrosive acid.

            She took a deep breath and ignited it.  It sprang to life with the same comforting snap-hiss that she was used to, glowing a bright violet.  Somehow relieved nothing had changed there, Jaina thumbed the blade off and attached it to her belt and looked back down at the silver bag.

            The flight boots tucked in the bottom of the bag proved to be the only things left in the bag.  Jaina sat on the bed, unable to balance on one foot long enough to tug them on, and carefully pulled the first boot on.  The sole felt well-worn, molded to the shape of her foot.  She supposed she had owned these boots for a while.  She jammed her right foot into the next boot and stubbed her toes on something.

            It proved to be a small clear bag with a few small belongings in it.  Though it had probably been tucked into the boot so she wouldn't miss it, Jaina glared at it as she finished properly inserting her right foot into the boot.  But her anger melted as she dumped the objects into her hand.

            Most of it was scrap metal– the remains of some multitool or another, she assumed.  But there was a small piece of hard metal with something etched into it; a nametag, she realized.  She held it up to the light and squinted at it, and nearly dropped it in her shock.

            It was a military-issued identification tag, and read, simply, _Commander J. Solo_.

            Commander?  When had she joined the New Republic's military?  Had she fought during the war Kyp had spoken of?  Still, she pinned the tag beneath her left collarbone.  So, she had joined the military, probably during the war, and had done well enough to gain rank.  Nice to know.

            Two objects left, and both were wrapped carefully in white crinkling paper to keep them safe.  She picked the larger and unwrapped it in her hand, setting the paper down on the bed behind her.  It was a small pendant on a gold chain; she turned it over and squinted at the small letters on the back.

            Finally, she could make out the spidery letters. _Still friends, Jaina.  Jagged._

            Jagged?  Was that a person or an adjective?

            Still, it had been important to her before, so she supposed it meant something.  She fumbled for a minute, but managed to fasten it behind her head.  She picked up the remaining paper-wrapped item and unwrapped it.

            The white paper fell to the ground in her amazement.  It was a ring, a relatively simple gold ring with a small line of glittering crystal set in a line along the outside of the circle, the same traditional type of engagement ring that her mother wore.

            She was engaged.

            Jaina sat for a long moment, completely floored, staring at the small ring in her hand, one question ringing through her mind.

            _Who_?

            She closed her hand around it and shut her eyes.  It wasn't bad enough to wake up and find out that ten years had been wiped out from her head.  It wasn't bad enough that she realized she had no idea what type of person she had become in probably the most important character-shaping years of her life.  It wasn't bad enough that she would probably not remember ten whole years she had spent with friends and family.

            She couldn't even remember which man she had agreed to marry.

            Hell, she might not even _know_ the man she had agreed to marry.  Not if she had only met him during the last ten years.

            A curse remarkably similar to the one Kyp Durron had uttered came through gritted teeth.  That gave her pause.  Where had she picked _that_ little phrase up?  The answer was all too obvious; she had been friends with Kyp, so she had probably picked it up from him.

            She swore her heart stopped beating for an instant.

            He had been in the room when she woke up.

            He had called her "love".

            And her family had looked extremely awkward when she had asked about their relationship.

            "Emperor's Black Bones," she whispered, and she opened her hand and stared down at the small ring.  "_Kyp_?"

            She shook her head, stunned, and turned the ring over in her rings.

            She didn't remember anything about him, not really.  Older than her.  Friend of her father's.  Jedi Master, one of her uncle's first students.  Fell to the Dark Side years ago.  Helped her dad escape Kessel, years and years ago.  He had a squadron now, didn't he?  She caught herself.  He had a squadron ten years ago.  She searched for the name, and it came drifting up to her.  The Dozen and Two Avengers.  That's right.  He had an apprentice ten years ago named Miko . . . Miko something.  

            And somehow she had agreed to marry him.  She glanced down at her left hand; there was a pale band of skin against the rest of her fourth finger.  She had worn the ring for some time, then.

            She rolled the ring between two fingers, and then slipped it onto her finger.

            It fit.

            Jaina buried her face in her hands, shoulder aching each time it shook with her sobs.  Ten years, ten of the most important years of her life– gone.  Forever.

            Nothing would be the same again.  Not for Jaina Solo, the sixteen year old Jedi apprentice studying under her Aunt Mara, and not for Jaina Solo, the twenty-six year old . . . _what_? Military commander, Jedi Knight?  Was she a Jedi Knight yet?

            The tears continued to flow.

            Nothing would be the same again.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	2. Chapter 2

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 2 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Han glared down at Tekli.  "So explain to me just how this is going to work," he demanded.  "She doesn't remember _anything_ from the last ten years?"

            "She has no _memories_ from the last ten years," the small Jedi corrected him.  "She probably has retained many things- habits, phrases, responses, muscle memories.  But most of what she has retained will probably turn out to be deeply embedded in her subconscious.  She won't remember anything by trying to remember it.  If she remembers anything, she most likely won't even realize that she's remembered it."

            "What do you mean by muscle memories?" Jacen asked.

            Tekli shrugged.  "It's almost a habit– if she's walked down the same hallway and turned right for the past few years, she'll probably still turn right rather than left without thinking about it.  She won't know why she's going right, but her muscles and her body will remember the path taken.  Little things like that.  She'll probably still be as good as a pilot as she was at the end of the war rather than reverting back to a pilot with no combat experience.  She won't know why she's reacting so well, but she'll still be reacting."

            "So what do we do for her?" Kyp asked impatiently.  "How can we help her?"

            Han wasn't good at reading Chandra Fan facial expressions, but he thought that the expression on her face was that of pity.  "She's going to be very confused for a time," Tekli said gently.  "She'll want things explained to her.  You're going to have to give her back her memories as best you can.  Tell her what you remember, what she liked and what she didn't.  You're going to have to help her find out what she missed and who she became in the ten years she can't remember."  She paused, and then folded her hands.  "She might not be quite the same as she was.  The best thing to do for her is to make her comfortable.  She's going to need time to come to terms with who she became."

            Kyp growled low in his throat and hit the wall, then rested his arm against it.  "In other words, she might never be the Jaina from four days ago again."

            "Simply put, yes."  Tekli's eyes were sad, and as she passed him on her way to the door, she spoke one last time.  "I'm sorry, Master Durron."

            Kyp bowed his head and rested it against his forearm, leaning against the wall.  Han didn't think of himself as the sentimental sort, but he felt a sudden pull of sympathy for the younger man.  "She'll be more comfortable with you," Kyp said quietly.  "Do you think she can stay with you for a while?"

            "Of course," Leia responded instantly.  She turned to her son.  "Jacen, can you . . ."

            Jacen smiled and touched her shoulder.  "I'll go and have Threepio get a room ready for her.  Don't worry."  He slipped out of the waiting room.

            Han eyed Kyp's unmoving frame warily.  "Hey, kid, it's not that bad," he began.

            "It is," Kyp said roughly, head still against his arm.  "She doesn't remember me.  She won't remember any of it."

            Leia came over to the man she had learned to accept as part of her family.  "Kyp, she's still Jaina," she said quietly, placing a hand on his back.

            Kyp finally moved away from the wall.  "I know.  But she won't remember any of it.  She didn't know why I was even in her room."  He sounded bleak, self-depreciating.  "What little she remembers of me is from before the war.  Ten years ago."  He shook his head.  "I don't like who I was ten years ago.  Jaina didn't like who I was ten years ago."

            Han felt his sympathies lurch, and found himself firmly planted on Kyp's side.  "She admired you ten years ago," he pointed out.  

            "That was before the war," Kyp pointed out.  "She didn't even know me ten years ago.  She won't remember anything that we have in common."  His muscles tensed as he waved a hand out in front of him.  "She won't remember anything that matters."

            "Kyp," Leia said, coming over to his side and taking his hand.  "Jaina fell in love with you for a reason.  I'm sure that even if she never remembers that reason, she'll find it again."

            He shut his eyes.  "We're all allowed one miracle, Leia," he said, sounding tired and defeated.  "Mine was having Jaina love me.  I don't think I have another miracle left to have her love me again."

            Han shook his head.  "Kid-" he started, but the door leading to the medical wing swung open and Jaina hesitantly stepped through.  He cleared his throat and turned to her.  "Hey, sweetheart, ready to go?"

            "Can we go someplace we can talk?"  Her voice was quiet and subdued; her eyes were red.  Han had been her father long enough to know that she had been crying.

            Leia stepped in and put her arm around their daughter.  "Why don't we head home," she suggested gently.

            "All right," Jaina agreed lifelessly.  She stepped forward then, and faced Kyp.  "Did you give me this?" she asked softly, lifting up her left hand, thumb resting on her ring, eyes large and soulful and frightened.

            Slowly, Kyp reached out and curled his hands over hers.  "I did," he said.

            Jaina's hand trembled.  "When?" she asked, a faint trace of desperation in her voice.

            His voice was soft.  "Almost a year ago."

            The two stood still for a long moment, searching each other's faces for some trace of what they had once had.  After a moment, Han cleared his throat.  "There's a lot to talk about, obviously," he said.  "Let's head home, kids."

            Kyp dropped Jaina's hand and let her precede him out of the room.  Han reached over and gently hit his shoulder.  "Hang in there, kid," he said.  "She'll come back."

            But Kyp's eyes were bleak.

—

            "Here we are," Leia said, swinging open the door.  "Our home for the past few years."

            Jaina stepped through the doorway, apprehension written in every movement she made.

            "Mistress Jaina!" Threepio exclaimed.  "Oh, Mistress Jaina, I'm so pleased to have you back safely!  I've prepared a room for you and-"

            "Stow it, Goldenrod," Han ordered, following Kyp into the room.  "See if you can scrounge us up some drinks."

            "Why, of course, Master Han.  The usual for everyone, I assume?"

            Leia winced as Jaina glanced at her.  She could read the question in her daughter's eyes- just what _was_ her usual?  "That'll be fine, Threepio," she said, and motioned for Jaina to sit on the couch.  

            "Certainly," the golden droid said, and made his way back into the kitchen.  Jacen ducked around him and came out to the living room.  He came over and sat beside his sister.  

            "Let me guess," he said, threading his fingers through hers.  "You want to know what you've missed."

            "Yes."  Jaina's voice was still too soft for Leia's peace of mind.  She took her own seat across from the twins and pulled Han down next to her.  She watched, heart breaking, as Kyp relinquished his usual place beside Jaina in favor of the chair to the left of the couch.  "The last thing I remember is flying the _Crystal_ and having a thruster blow out."

            Han heaved a deep breath.  "A thruster blew out and sent you spinning.  You banged yourself up pretty good and crash-landed into Yavin 4 just in front of the Great Temple.  The _Crystal_ didn't do so well.  It wasn't the greatest present I ever gave you."

            A faint smile quirked the edges of Jaina's lips up.  "No, I guess not.  That was ten years ago, wasn't it?  How did I wind up in the medical bay this time?"

            "You're an officer in Starfleet Command," Jacen said.  "You're a Commander– you lead Twin Suns Squadron.  You were flying escort as part of the Second Fleet when your squadron was ambushed in the atmosphere of Reseja.  You crash-landed and spent four days in the bacta tank before the droids let you out today."

            A flicker of concern crossed her face.  "How are the rest of my pilots?  Are they all right?"

            Everyone glanced at Kyp.  "You lost four pilots," he said, green eyes somber.  "Two more went EV and another crash-landed like you.  You were too outnumbered to do anything."

            "Oh."  Jaina glanced down at her hands, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.  "Kyp said something about a war?"  She looked up.  "Is it over?  Who did we fight?"

            "It's over," Leia said, glad to be able to reassure her daughter of at least something.  "Our galaxy was invaded by the Yuuzhan Vong."

            Even though she was missing some of her memories, the rest of Jaina's mind seemed as sharp as ever.  She perked up.  "Our galaxy?  They were extra-galactic?"

            "They were," Leia affirmed.  "They invaded and the war started– only a few months after you crashed the _Crystal_."

            "Did I fight in it?" Jaina asked.  Her eyes darted over to Kyp.  "Is that where we became friends?"

            Kyp couldn't seem to figure out how to answer that, but Han spoke up, pride still evident in his voice.  "You were sixteen when you joined Rogue Squadron," he informed her.

            Jaina's eyes flew wide with what Leia hoped was delight.  "I was in Rogue Squadron?"

            "You were an _officer_ in Rogue Squadron," Han told her smugly.  "Always knew my girl could fly."

            "And we won," Jaina said slowly, as if she was rolling the idea around in her head.

            "We did," Leia said.  She hesitated.  "But we lost too much before we won."

            Jaina's delight at finding she was a Rogue dimmed almost instantly.  She glanced around the room, and finally the missing faces seemed to sink in.  "Anakin," she said on a moan.  "And Chewie."

            Leia nodded, and Threepio bustled in with their drinks, not giving Jaina time to speak again for a few minutes as he served everyone with a constant stream of chatter that Han couldn't stop.

            When Threepio clanked out, however, Jaina had regained control of herself.  "Tell me what happened in the war," she said quietly, eyes sad and serious and resigned.

            And as they explained everything, her eyes remained somehow detached from the memories they returned to her.  They grew moist as they told of the deaths of those she had known, but were only faintly troubled when the deaths of friends she couldn't remember were pointed out.  It was as though all her emotions were a step back from her, as though she was somehow listening to merely a child's story rather than the accounts of her life. 

            And Leia was worried about her daughter.

            Jaina was relieved when Jacen finished his account of the war and stopped, not going into the next five years of her life.  Five years of war bounced around her head, accounts of what she had done and who she had met, and she felt more than a little overwhelmed.

            "We've made a room ready for you," her mother said gently, smiling at her.  "Do you want to go lie down for a while?"

            Jaina didn't think she could sleep, but neither did she want to be trapped in the same room as her family– what was left of it– while they politely told her everything they could possibly remember about her.  "Maybe I should," she said.  She stood up; things swirled dizzily for a moment and then resumed their positions. _Four days in bacta_, she reminded herself.  _Take it easy._

            "I'll bring some of her things over," she heard Kyp say just as she left the room.  "She can't have much here."

            She spun around and entered the living room again before her parents could respond.  She didn't look at them; her attention was only for Kyp.  "Can I come with you?" she asked.

            He studied her for a moment, then nodded.  "If you want to."

            She made her way to his side.  "Honey, do you want me to come with you?" her mother asked.

            Jaina laughed lightly.  "I think we'll be all right, Mom," she said.  "If I decided to marry him, then I probably am safe with him."

            Leia looked as though she would say something, so Jaina quickly continued, "And the two of us should probably talk anyways."

            Her father nudged Leia.  "Let the kids go, Princess," he ordered her.  

            "All right," Leia said on a sigh.  "Bring her back safe, Kyp."

            "I will," he said, and he led her out of the room and into the long hallway.  They walked in silence for a long time, out of the building and into the streets of what appeared to be a neat city.  The pedestrian walkways were clean and relatively uncrowded; trees and greenery sprouted and flourished all along the walkways.

            "Where are we?" Jaina finally asked.

            "Anas," Kyp said.  "We're roughly in the middle of the northern continent."

            They lapsed into silence again.  The day was pleasant; the sun was slowly sinking, but it was still warm enough for her to go without a jacket.  The walk wasn't too long– about fifteen silent minutes later, Kyp led her into another building very like the one her parents lived in.  They went up a few floors and the Kyp opened a plain grey door and motioned her inside.  

            "Home," he said.  "Or mostly.  We've only been based here for six or seven months."

            Jaina stepped cautiously inside.  The walls were the same grey as the door; this set of rooms was obviously smaller than the ones her parents commanded.  "And we live here?" she asked, a little overwhelmed by the blankness on the walls.

            He came to a stop beside her.  "You keep threatening to decorate," he said wryly.  "Or put something up on the walls."

            She couldn't stop her giggle.  "I was just thinking how plain they were," she confessed.

            At that, a small smile finally graced his face.  "Nice to know some things haven't changed," he murmured.  He brought a hand up to touch her face, but it dropped before it made contact.  "You look pale," he said, and maneuvered her quickly back to sit on the worn couch.  "Sit down.  I'll pack what you'll need at your parents' place."

—

            It took less time than he liked to collect what she would want.  A hairbrush, some of her clothes . . . was it so easy for her to disappear from his life?  Kyp picked up a small silver hair clip, and weighed it in his palm.  She'd bought it on one of their days out, teasing him that she would give it to him for his birthday since his hair was long enough to warrant a clip to keep it neatly pulled back.  She'd worn it dozens of times since then; he couldn't count the number of times he'd pulled it from her hair to watch her brown tresses tumble down around her shoulders.

            He clenched his hand around the clip and slipped it inside his drawer.  A man was entitled to have something to remember the love of his life by.

            Kyp sealed the bag and moved out of the bedroom into the living room.  Jaina didn't look up; he glanced down and found that she had found his holocube.

            She was slowly flashing through the holos he had stored in it.  He eased down beside her.  "That's Miko Reglia," he told her as she came to the picture.  "He was my first apprentice."  The next picture was of her, laughing and making a face at the camera.  "And that would be my second apprentice," he said, unable to keep from smiling.  "With her Solo hatred of holoreporters."

            "If you think I'm bad, you should see Dad," Jaina muttered absently.  She flickered through a number of holos, most of him or her, and paused at one with three people in it.  All three were laughing, arms looped around each other's shoulders, Jaina wedged between two dark-haired men.  She reached a tentative hand up to touch the holoscreen.  "This is Jagged?" she asked. 

            "You usually call him Jag," Kyp said softly.  "This was taken about four years ago."

            "The three of us flew in Twin Suns together."  It almost sounded like she was reminding herself.

            "We did."  Kyp forced himself to tell her the whole truth.  "You dated him, for a while.  He's a good pilot and a good friend."

            A frown settled onto her face, and she reached up to her neck and tapped the pendant that hung there.  "He gave me this, then?"

            "He did," Kyp said, and had to work to keep his tone even.  "After the two of you split up.  You always wear it."

            "Oh," was her response, which told him nothing.  She resumed cycling through the pictures, and stopped on the last one.  It was perhaps Kyp's favorite holo: he had his arm around Jaina's shoulders, and she was leaning against him.  They were sitting together on a couch and both had their eyes closed.

            Jaina stared at it for a long moment, and then switched the holocube off and set it down on the table beside the couch.  She looked up at him for a long moment, and finally spoke.  "So we've been engaged for almost a year," she ventured.

            It took an effort not to reach out and touch her.  "I asked you before I took the Dozen to B'fr'ia," he said.

            "How long have we been living together?"  

            "Since we were based here together.  Six or seven months, I don't know."  He lost his war with himself and reached out and draped an arm over her shoulders, regretting it when she tensed.  But then she relaxed and leaned her head against him.  The simple movement nearly rendered him speechless.  

            "So we're . . . lovers?"

            He curled his fingers into her hair, trying to imprint the texture into his memory.  He might not have another chance to touch it.  "We were."  Her hair was silky soft, dark brown and straight; he let it run through his fingers and then caught it up in his hand again.

            "Were we happy?"

            He nearly missed her question, it was so quiet.

            He straightened and looked down at her.  "I was happy.  I think you were happy."  He slid a hand out to cup her cheek.  "And I don't expect you to believe this after hearing what I did to you during the war, but I love you."

            There were tears shining in her eyes.  "Did you tell me that?" she asked.  "Before."

            He nodded.      

            She took a deep breath.  "Did I love you?  Did I tell you that I loved you?"

            "You did."  And the moment she had would be imprinted on his brain no matter how hard he hit his head.  

            Her tears spilled.  "I don't remember," she whispered.  "I don't remember any of it."  She dashed away tears carelessly, but they continued to fall.  "Anakin's gone and Chewie's gone and Coruscant is gone and Yavin's gone and I just found out today."

            Kyp wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried.

            "I went to the Dark Side," she sobbed.  "Kyp, shouldn't I remember _something_?"

            "I don't know, Goddess," he said into her hair.  

            Her arms slipped around him and tightened.  "I wish I could remember it," she said, voice muffled against his chest.  "I wish I could remember you.  I want to be happy."

            He simply held her, wondering how he was going to let her go.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	3. Chapter 3

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 3 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Kyp's arms cradled her.  Though his hands on her back were gentle, Jaina could feel the fierce possessiveness he was trying to hide from her.  It was in the way his hand had shaken when he had first pulled her close, in the way that his thumb brushed circles along her lower back.  But most of all, it was in his eyes when he watched her.  

            Jaina had stopped crying.  The grief was still there, the numbness, but there was no embarrassment and no shame in her mind.  Which, she decided, was oddly.  She would have– should have– felt some embarrassment at falling apart and crying her eyes out ... in front of Kyp Durron, no less.  The Jaina of ten years ago would have been horrified.

            But something kept her quiet and calm and peaceful after her crying jag.  Some memory trying to come back to her?  Some part of her subconscious telling her that she had done this before, that she was safe here?

            Jaina considered that for a moment, and then mentally filed it away.  It was an interesting line of thought and she should pursue it ... but not now.  She opened her eyes and found herself staring at Kyp's shoulder.  She took a deep breath, mostly full of Kyp's scent, and lifted her head away from his chest.  His arms around her immediately loosened, and he let her lean away from him.  She felt somehow disappointed.

            Interesting reaction, disappointment.  She noted it, a bit surprised, then ordered herself back to the task at hand.  She looked up at Kyp and met his eyes.  "I suppose I should go back home now."

            He barely flinched at the word _home_, but nodded.  "I'll walk you back," he told her as he stood.  He swung his black cape over his shoulders– _that_ Jaina remembered, as she couldn't think of a time he hadn't worn it on Yavin 4– and picked up the small bag he'd packed for her.

            The sun had set, and it was much cooler outside.  Barely a minute after they had left the rooms, Jaina ventured, "Can I ask a question about my parents?"

            Kyp glanced down at her.  "Sure, Goddess."

            _Goddess_.  She made a mental note to think about that little nickname later.  "How do they– I mean, how do I– or we . . ."  She gave up and simply sighed.  "Kyp, how do I get along with them?  Are we friends?"  She crossed her arms in front of her to ward off the cool night air.  "How do they treat me?"

            Kyp stopped, set down the bag, and turned to face her.  "Jaina," he said gently, "your parents love you."  His hands worked at the ties of his cape; he swirled it off his shoulders and draped it over hers.  "You're friends with them.  You respect them."  She could feel his fingers tying the cape in place, brushing against the soft skin of her throat.  "You had some issues with your mom early on in the war, but you worked those out."  He met her eyes as he pulled the cape close around her.  "They're both very proud of you.  You shouldn't be scared of them."

            Because she was, she gave him a weak smile.  "Thanks."

            He smiled back at her, green eyes warm and tender and somehow sad.  "Anything for a Goddess."  One rough hand brushed loose strands of her hair back, then slid behind her neck and slowly tugged her hair out from under the cape.

            Jaina looked at him, really looked, for the first time since she had woken in the medical wing.  He was still physically bigger than her; he was some inches taller and had the lean muscled build of a fighter pilot.  His eyes were still a dark green with the barest hint of brown– darker than Zekk's emerald eyes, harder to define, but somehow just as familiar and comforting.  Black hair still fell to just past his shoulders, slightly wavy and disheveled, and it still framed the same strong face.

            But not everything was the same.  As he turned and picked up the bag, returning to their silent walk, Jaina catalogued the toll of ten years.  

            The few strands of grey hair that Jaina remembered her father teasing Kyp about now warred with the black for dominance.  While the black was currently winning, she suspected that it wouldn't take many more years before the Jedi Master went wholly grey.  There were small lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, creases that Jaina would have assumed to be laugh lines if she could have pictured the brooding rogue Jedi laughing.

            She wondered if she had been able to make him laugh.

            She wrapped the cape around her as the wind picked up, and thought.  As they entered the building, she asked quietly, "When were we supposed to be married?"

            He glanced down at her, eyes guarded, and when he answered, his voice was neutral.  "In twenty days."

            "Oh."

            She was silent again.  All she seemed capable of doing was questioning and thinking.  They reached her parents' door, and as Kyp lifted his hand to enter the code, she made her decision and stopped him.

            "Kyp," she said hesitantly, "I know this isn't fair to you, and I'm sorry."

            He avoided her gaze.  "It's not your fault," he told her.

            Jaina looked down, to where her hand rested on his arm.  "It's not yours, either," she pointed out.  "And I know this is asking a lot of you, but I'm going to need–"

            "–time," Kyp interrupted wearily, finishing her sentence, dropping her bag onto the floor.

            She frowned.  "Well, probably.  But I'm going to need _help_, Kyp."  His head swung up and incredulous green eyes met hers.  She smiled faintly.  "However unlikely I think it is, you're a big part of the ten years I can't remember.  You probably know my pretty well by now, right?"  He nodded, and she hurried on before he could speak, trying to keep him from looking away.  "I need a friend, Kyp.  Someone I can talk to and ask questions.  Someone I was friends with before."  She stepped closer to him nervously.  "I know this has probably messed up all the reasons why you wanted to marry me, I know you might not like me much now that I'm ten years behind, but can you please still help me?"

            Kyp was staring at her as though she'd been speaking Ithorian.  For a long, horrible second, Jaina was sure she'd asked too much of him.  Then, "I'll help," he agreed, voice low.  "On one condition."

            She took a deep breath.  "Name it."

            He reached down between them and lifted up her left hand.  He ran his thumb across the engagement ring.  "Leia is going to want to cancel this."  He let her hand fall and smiled wryly.  "You're probably wondering why you agreed to marry me in the first place.  My condition is that you take a few days to think it over before you give me back the ring."

            Jaina involuntarily closed her hand, her thumb automatically coming to rest on the smooth metal and rough crystals.  He expected her to back out.

            And hadn't she considered doing so?  Hadn't the idea of marrying Kyp Durron, killer of Carida, rogue Jedi, and practically a stranger– hadn't the idea of marrying him panicked her?

            He was asking her to think it over.  He wasn't asking her to marry him on the strength of her old self's promise.  All he was asking was for her to honestly try and see why she– why her old self–  had agreed to marry him.

            She opened her hand.  "A week," she said abruptly, and saw his eyes narrow.  She elaborated.  "Seven days.  I'll think it over for seven days before I make a decision."

            "Seven days," he agreed.  "It's more than I could have asked for."

            Jaina licked her lips nervously.  "Then you'll come back tomorrow so we can talk?"

            "I will."  He hesitated, then bent down and kissed her cheek lightly, chastely, lips light against her skin.  "Sleep well, Goddess."  And then Kyp turned and quickly strode away.

            Jaina's breath came out in a whoosh.  He'd agreed to help her, and all she had to do was to think about things.  And hadn't she intended to think things over as it was?  She bent and slung the bag over her shoulder.  A reasonable condition.  She put her hand over the keypad to enter the code, and paused.  Her hand hovered, wavered, and finally fell back to her side.

            "Damn it," she growled, and knocked.

            Her mother was the one to answer.  "Hi, Mom," she said a bit sheepishly.  "I don't remember the code, I guess."

            Leia only smiled at her.  "It's all right," she said, and then peered down the hallway as Jaina entered.  "Where's Kyp?  He knows the code."

            "He went back home," Jaina tossed over her shoulder, moving toward her room.  "He's coming back tomorrow so we can talk a bit more."

            Leia followed Jaina to her room, pausing in the doorway.  "Jaina, about Kyp," she began, but Jaina dropped the back and turned to her.

            "I want some time to think things over."

            Leia seemed pleased.  "You talked with him, then?"

            "I did."  Jaina brought a hand up and with two quick tugs undid Kyp's knot.  "I have a lot of things to think about," she said.  With an expert flick of her wrist, she whirled the cape off of her shoulders and in the same fluid motion had it neatly hung on the corner of her chair.  She stared at Kyp's cape for a long moment before she turned to her mother and demanded, "How did I do that?"

            Leia shrugged, mouth twitching a bit with what might have been amusement.  "Tekli said you'd remember actions you've done many times before.  You've certainly done that enough times to remember how."

            "I have?"  She gazed at the cape, puzzled, but it was definitely the one Kyp always wore: black, faintly shimmery, and silky-smooth.  "Really?"

            Her confusion must have been obvious; her mother smiled and came to stand beside her.  "See how worn the hem is?" she asked.  "It drags just a little when you wear it because it was made for Kyp and he's taller than you.  He's always making you wear it because you always forget a jacket or he just thinks you're cold."  Good humor colored Leia's voice.  "He's trying to take care of you.  You never want to wear it– you always tell him you're all grown up and can dress yourself, and you think it's too dramatic.  But somehow you always wind up with it.  It's Kyp's way of knowing you're warm enough, I think, so he won't worry about you."  Her smile faltered.  "I think your father was going to give you one of your own since you wind up wearing Kyp's so often.  As a joke for your wedding."

            "Oh," Jaina said, still staring at the ragged hemline of the cape.

            Leia hugged her.  "Get some sleep, Jaina," she said.  "I know it's early, but you're just out of bacta and need to rest."

            Jaina gave her mother a wry smile.  "I'm all right, you know," she pointed out.  "It's not as though I'm hobbling around about to collapse."

            "I know," Leia said, and kissed her forehead.  "But I'm your mother.  I'm entitled to worry over you a bit."

            "Good night, Mom."

            "Goodnight, sweetie."

            But four hours later, wearing a soft nightgown from the closet– she wasn't sure she wanted to see what she wore to sleep around Kyp yet, so she hadn't yet opened the bag he'd packed her– Jaina lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, still wide awake.

            She tossed and turned, oddly uncomfortable.  She drifted off to sleep a few times, only to wake with her hand clutching empty sheets.  Sighing, she pushed back the covers and stood.  There was too much to think about for her to sleep.  She swung to her feet and cursed softly as she encountered the cold floor.  Shivering, she fumbled in the dark and found Kyp's cape.  Wrapping it firmly around herself– it may have been overly dramatic, but it was warm– she slid out of her room and made her way through the darkened rooms to the main window.

            She settled down in the chair, pulled her feet up and tucked them under Kyp's cape, and stared out into the night.  It was just after midnight.  Threepio was propped against the wall, powered down, and the building was quiet and dark.

            Jaina took a deep breath.  The cape still smelled like Kyp, spicy and male, and somehow it was comforting.  She leaned back, ordering her thoughts so she could begin to go through them ...

            ... and fell soundly asleep.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	4. Chapter 4

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 4 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Jacen was the first awake, as usual.  Unlike the rest of his family, he was happy in the early hours as the sun rose.  He enjoyed the stillness, the faint hint of light, the glorious colors of dawn.  Each sunrise was different.  Each taught a lesson.

            He cupped his hands around a hot cup of his favorite drink and eased himself into the living room.  To his surprise, his sister occupied his usual chair.  She was asleep, head pillowed against her arms, wrapped in what Jacen thought was Kyp's black cape.  He started forward, wondering why she wasn't in bed, and in his care to move silently, barked his shin up against the end of the couch and nearly scalded himself with his drink.  He cursed.

            "Interesting morning show," Jaina said, voice rough with sleep.  She yawned, stretched her arms out and peered curiously at him.  "Does Mom know you use those words?"

            Jacen grimaced, one hand rubbing his leg.  "As it's Yuuzhan Vong and Mom doesn't speak it, I think I'm safe.  Sorry.  I didn't mean to wake you."

            But Jaina was already wide awake.  "It was?  But I understood what you said."

            "I'm not surprised.  Tahiri and Harrar and I made you learn quite a bit."  As he straightened, Jacen came over to her and sat on the arm of her chair.  "You might not remember learning it, but language is one of those things that we're hardwired to understand.  It would take a pretty hard hit to forget a language."

            "Mm," Jaina said, and stretched again.

            Jacen sipped his drink, then frowned at her.  "Why are you out here?"

            She rolled the kinks from her neck with the practiced ease of a combat pilot used to sleeping in tight quarters.  "I couldn't sleep," she said, uncurling and flexing her feet.  "I came out to think and I guess I nodded off."

            Jacen shook his head.  "Don't let Mom find out."

            She grinned and settled herself more comfortably.  "Do I look stupid?"

            He laughed.  "I won't answer that.  Here," he said offering her the steaming mug, "want some hot chocolate?"

            Jaina made a face.  "Ick, no."

            Jacen laughed again, pulling the mug back closer to his body.  "There, you just remembered something."

            "I did?"

            He nodded.  "Ten years ago," he reminded her, "you love the stuff.  Then you joined Rogue Squadron, which frowns on anything nonalcoholic, and slowly grew addicted to caf. _Then_ you turned seventeen and they decided you were old enough to find out what good Corellian whiskey tastes like."  He shook his head sadly.  "Turns out you inherited Dad's hard head in more ways than one.  Anyway, it got to the point in the war where it was easier to find something alcoholic than hot chocolate.  Once we finally found the stuff again, you decided you didn't like it anymore."  He raised his mug in salute.  "Just one more casualty of the war."

            Jaina groaned.  "So now I like bad moonshine over hot chocolate?  Not fair.  I'm an idiot.  Here, let me have a sip."  She took the mug and cautiously tasted the steaming liquid.  She considered for a moment, then handed it back to him.  "Sithspawn, you're right."  She made a face.  "Maybe the whiskey killed my taste buds."

            "Most likely," Jacen agreed.  

            "But I remembered," she pointed out.  "I didn't want hot chocolate even though I didn't remember why."

            He shrugged.  "You didn't think about it.  Tekli said you're most likely to remember things when you're not thinking about them."

            "A lot of good that does me," Jaina muttered.  "All the things I want answers to I can't _stop_ thinking about."

            "Kyp," Jacen guessed.

            Jaina heaved a breath.  "Yes.  Mostly."  Her fingers stroked the cape; Jacen wondered if she even knew she was doing so.  "But some other things.  Falling to the Dark Side.  This entire unifying Force idea.  Anakin.  Commanding a squadron.  Lots of things."

            The sun was rising behind her; Jacen ignored it.  He had seen many dawns in the past few years, but he hadn't seen his sister this troubled before.  "Can I help?"

            Jaina's gaze swung back to the pinks and purples of the sunrise.  "I want to think you can," she murmured.  "But I just don't know."

            "Are you comfortable around me?"

            Her head jerked back to him.  "Of course.  You're my brother."

            "How about Mom and Dad?  Are you comfortable around them?"

            She hesitated, and he knew he had made his point.  "It's a different sort of comfortable," she said at last.  "I'm more shielded around them, more careful."

            "But you're still comfortable around me.  You trust me."  He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.  "You and I argued a lot, early in the war.  Not as much as Anakin and I did, but we had our fair share of disagreements.  But we were always friends.  Friends can tell each other things they can't tell their parents."

            "Yeah."  Jaina returned to watching the sunrise.  "I understand what you're saying.  Since I'm comfortable around you, you and I must have still been friends when I lost my memory.  If I wasn't, then I'd feel edgy or something."

            Jacen nodded, and ventured, "Are you comfortable around Kyp?"

            She was silent for a long while, as the sun climbed wholly above the horizon.  "Yes," she said at last.  "But again, it's a different sort of comfortable.  And I _know_ that wasn't there ten years ago."  She looked down at her hands, and Jacen saw her fingers stroke across her engagement ring.  "I think I'm most able to be myself around him, and I don't know why.  Well," she amended, "I know why, I just can't remember why.  He saved me from the Dark Side, didn't he."

            It wasn't a question; Jacen winced.  "He kept you from going deeper, and helped you find your way back."

            He could almost hear her thinking.  "And then he just sort of stuck with me?"

            "That's a way of putting it."  Jacen considered his words carefully.  "He was still looking out for you, I think."

            Her silences were growing longer.  The next time she spoke, the light was no longer rosy but golden, the sun well above the horizon.  "How did you react when you found out that the two of us were together?"

            "I was surprised," Jacen said after a moment's recollection.  He had never really stopped to consider it before.  "We all were.  Aunt Mara threw a fit.  Uncle Luke seemed really concerned, but he didn't say anything.  Mom and Dad... well, Mom didn't really understand why you and Jag got together in the first place, much less why you two split up, and she was a bit worried you were with Kyp because you were grateful for his help.  Dad took it the best, I think– he just laughed, threatened to kill Kyp if he so much as looked at you wrong, and went off muttering about how old you were."  Jaina made an amused sound, and Jacen continued.  "I was... concerned, I guess."

            "Why?" Jaina asked, turning to look at him.

            Jacen weighed his words.  "He's almost sixteen years older than you, and he'd hurt you before.  But mostly, I didn't think he loved you."

            Her eyes flickered, and she quickly returned them to the window before Jacen could catch the emotion.  "Did he?" she asked quietly.

            "He did."  And Jacen ached for him, to have come so close to being happy only to have Jaina pulled from his grasp.  "When you two got engaged, everyone calmed down.  Aunt Mara and Kyp even had a conversation with no death threats involved."

            "She doesn't get along with him?"

            Jacen chuckled.  "Well, let's see– Kyp fell to the Dark Side, destroyed a planet, nearly killed her husband, spent a few years going against everything her husband preached, lied to her first apprentice, and wound up stealing you right out from under her, and you were her first real apprentice at the time.  So no, the two of them don't get along so well.  That's one of your projects, getting them to be civil to each other."

            "I like impossible things, don't I?" Jaina mused.  "All right, next question, and it's a bit random.  Why does Kyp still call me 'Goddess'?"

            "Why does Dad still call Mom 'Princess'?" Jacen shot back, and laughed when she looked taken aback.  "More people than Kyp still call you that, Jaina.  You use it as your callsign sometimes when you fly, and a lot of the military still tease you by calling you 'Goddess' or 'Great One'.  I think Jag still calls you 'Great One' to annoy you, come to think of it," he added.

            "Hm."  She stared out the window for a long minute, then shook her head as though to clear it.  "Well, back to the original question: yes, I feel comfortable around Kyp.  But it's a dangerous sort of comfortable.  It doesn't make any sense.  I'm relaxed and my shields are down, but it's like I'm always waiting for an attack, always expecting something."  She gave a quick bark of laughter.  "I don't know.  It's a strange feeling.  Maybe I keep expecting him to kiss me or something.  Not how I feel about you."

            Jacen nearly choked on his chocolate.  "I should hope not."

            A smile hovered at the edges of Jaina's lips.  "Same old Jacen," she said quietly, rapping her hand gently against his leg.  "I'm glad some things haven't changed."

            He tousled her hair.  "You're welcome."

            But he regretted it as a spark lit in her brown eyes and a mischievous smile spread across her face.  "So, help me catch up with Jacen Solo, Jedi Knight," she said.  "Got a girlfriend yet?"

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	5. Chapter 5

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 5 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

When Kyp opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the silence.  It was unsettling; Han and Leia's apartment was not the place to go for quiet relaxation.  It was the place to go laugh and banter with friends, the place for competitive mock-fights and verbal spars, the place where informality and friendship reigned.

            It was almost never quiet.

            He shut the door behind him and moved into the living room.  From there, he caught faint voices, and moved in their direction.  They led him to the guest room, where he supposed Jaina was staying.

            Jaina sat, legs crossed, in the center of her bed, with holos strewn around her.  Han was leaning against the bed, reaching over her shoulder to point at a specific holo.

            "That's from a few years ago," he said as Kyp paused, unnoticed, in the doorway.  "That's Tahiri and you and Harrar on Sekot."

            "And Tahiri and Harrar are still there now," Jaina said firmly.

            "That's right.  Harrar's that crazy priest of the Trickster Goddess who you actually get along with, for some reason."  Han shook his head.  "You two went off for a long talk a couple weeks after Shimmra was killed, and the two of you come back best buddies and having long philosophical discussions."

            "About what?"

            "I don't know," Han said.

            "The nature of the gods," Kyp said, and had the satisfaction of watching both father and daughter's heads snap up in surprise.  "Just because you have your shields up, Goddess, doesn't mean you should completely cut yourself off.  You should have been able to sense me."

            Her mouth made a little O and she colored lightly, but he sensed some of her shields lifting.  She reached out through the Force and tapped his mind gently in greeting.  "You're right; I'm sorry," she said.  "Nature of the gods?"

            He smiled and moved into the room.  He came over to the bed, on the opposite side of Han, and peered at the picture.  "He never believed that you were actually Yun-Harla.  Well, he never admitted to believing it.  But most of the Yuuzhan Vong did, and some still do.  What he's settled on is that you're an avatar of his goddess, and you don't think you are since you don't really believe that their gods exist in the first place.  So the two of you argue whether or not an avatar needs to be willing in order for a goddess to work through her."  He shook his head.  "I didn't know you had this holo.  Harrar doesn't like holos; none of the Vong do.  Technology is bad enough, but they think that a holo steals part of their being."

            "Tahiri's working on Harrar," Han informed him.  "He's doing much better."

            "I guess."  Kyp glanced at the other holos.  All of them were from after the war ended, mostly pictures of people he recognized.  Himself, Jag, Tahiri, Jacen, Tenel Ka, Lowie, General Darklighter, Wedge Antilles, Zekk, even Ta'a Chume, Droma and Shawnkyr.  "Where's Leia and Jacen?"

            Han shrugged.  "Off being diplomatic, I think.  With those two, I'm clueless.  You," he said to Jaina, "you I understand."

            She smiled at him.  "Glad to know I can help, Dad."  Then she looked up at Kyp.  "You're early."

            "I've been ordered to bring you up into Starfighter Command," he said, and watched her tense.  "Darklighter wants to talk with you.  They've found out some things about that ambush that they think could be trouble, and want to go over some things with you.  I told him about the memory loss," he added.  "And he got all concerned and I'm supposed to pass on that if there's anything he can do to help, just let him know.  But then he got all serious again and said that you're to act as though you remember everything."

            "Why-" Jaina began, then held up her hand and stopped herself.  "No, because that way whoever attacked us doesn't know how badly I'm hurt.  Makes sense.  But how am I going to pull it off?  I assume I've been to Command before and would actually know some of the people there?"

            Kyp nodded.  "That's why I'm coming with you." _We've got a Force-bond.  I can prompt you a bit if you need it.  You've told me about most of these people._

            "Oh.  We do?  I have?"  Jaina looked surprised.  "All right."

            Han's blank face went from one to the other.  "Did I miss something?"

            "Probably."  Kyp couldn't keep the smile from his face.  "You'll need to wear your uniform, Jaina."  He tossed the small packet he had been carrying onto the bed; it bounced and scattered a few holos.  "And we need to leave soon if we're not going to be late."

            He and Han left her alone to change.  As soon as the door to her room shut, Kyp turned to Han.  "How's she doing?"

            "Better," Han said simply.  "She asked to see pictures once Leia left; said you'd shown her some yesterday.  I'm going to dig out some of those old holomovies Leia used to take while you're gone.  She's trying, kid."

            "I know."  He sighed and leaned against the wall.  "I just really hope Darklighter has one of those vaping ambushers in his office so I can beat the hell out of him."

            "Good luck," Han said seriously.  "If, by any chance, Darklighter does leave you alone with the ambusher for a while, knock him around a bit for me, will you?"

            "I'll bring back a piece of him for you, how's that?"

            Han was saved the bother of continuing the attempt at humor as Jaina's door swung open.  She always dressed quickly; Kyp supposed that it was part of being a pilot during the war.  Both of them could be ready to fly from a dead sleep in under five minutes.

            She looked decidedly uncomfortable.  "Tell me I hated this uniform," she begged, coming over to stand by him.

            "You hated it," Kyp agreed.  

            "This is yours," she said, handing him his cape, which she had attempted to fold and mostly failed.  

            He set it down on the couch; he was already wearing a flight jacket.  "Remind me about it when we get back."  He reached out and straightened her tunic.  "Ready to go?"

            "I guess."  She kissed her father on the cheek.  "Don't worry, Daddy, Kyp will keep me out of trouble."

            "You don't remember much, do you?" Han muttered as the two of them left.  

            Kyp, overhearing the comment, laughed.  "I'll bring her back whole," he promised as the door shut.

-

            Starfighter Command was an imposing building of black stone and grey floors, filled with hundreds of officers all wearing white uniforms with a black stripe down the left shoulder.  Jaina had been understandably reluctant to enter the building, but Kyp had prodded her into it.  Now she walked beside him, stiff as durasteel.

            _Relax,_ he ordered her. _Calm down.  We're almost there._

            She let out a breath. _I'm **trying**.  It's not working.  Oh help, who's this?_

_            Lieutenant Eirin, flew with you for two years in Rogue Squadron after the war.  Wife and three kids._

            "Afternoon, Eirin," Jaina said as they passed the pilot.  "How's-" _Name?_ she thought frantically, and in the heartbeat of panic Kyp sent _Rena_ "-Rena and the kids?" she continued with the barest of pauses.

            Eirin grinned at her.  "They're doing good, Sticks.  When are you going to come back to us?"

            "Whenever the General decides to give up on you.  See you around."

            "Later."

            _Good job.  He replaced you as Lieutenant when you left for Twin Suns._

_            Oh good, that was all bluffs.  What's Sticks?_

_            Turn left and we're here.  The officer at the desk is Griggs; he likes you, so be friendly.  Sticks was your old callsign._

            "How are things, Griggs?" Jaina asked, coming to a stop in front of the desk.

            "Solo!" Griggs exclaimed, and then his eyes flicked past her to Kyp.  "Or is it Durron now?"

            "Not quite yet," Jaina said.  "I was summoned.  Is the General in or is he going to ignore me for a bit longer?"

            "Oh, he's in," the Bothan said with a wave of his hand.  "And he said that Jedi of yours is allowed in also.  So how much longer do I have to persuade you to marry me and not him?"

            Panic flooded Jaina's thoughts.

            _Joke, _Kyp said firmly. D_efinitely a joke.  He does this every time you bring me past him._

            "Oh, a week or two," Jaina said airily.  "But what makes you think I'd leave Kyp for you?"

            Griggs's fur flattened and he put a hand over his heart.  "Well, I love you with all my soul."

            "So do I," Kyp put in.

            He deflated.  "Oh.  Hm, let's see, what do I have to offer...  I'm an excellent kisser," he offered hopefully.

            Jaina only laughed.  "So's he."  She glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. _Or so I assume._

            He managed to keep a straight face. _You never complained before._

            Griggs heaved a sigh.  "I have two weeks, at least, to think of a reason.  The General's waiting for you.  Nice to see you again, Solo, Durron."

            Jaina reached out and patted Griggs's cheek.  "Nice to see you too, Griggs.  Keep working on those reasons."

            Darklighter rose as the two of them entered.  "Jaina, I'm glad you made it in.  Durron, thanks for your help."  He came around the desk and hugged Jaina.  "He told me you don't remember much of anything from the past ten years.  Is that right?"

            "Yes, sir."

            "So you don't remember the ambush at all?"

            "No, sir," Jaina said, moving to the seat he had waved her to.  Kyp took the one beside it.  "Just what Kyp's told me so far."

            General Darklighter's hair was nearly all silver, but the rest of his face was still youthful despite having led Rogue Squadron during the war and for some years after it.  "All right," he said, and dropped back into his chair.  "I think– and Intelligence agrees with me– that the ambush was specifically designed to kill you."

            Kyp felt his blood turn to ice.

            "What do you mean?" Jaina asked.

            Darklighter reached for a datapad on his desk, and handed it across the desk to Kyp.  "You and your squadron– which is currently on the disabled list, incidently– were on Reseja acting as an escort for the new cargo shipment.  While preparing to leave the planet, you were attacked in the atmosphere by two and a half squadrons of Uglies.  Five pilots died and one was injured.  But the Uglies specifically targeted Twin Suns."

            Kyp was only half-listening to him; most of his attention was on the datapad.  He scrolled through the information as the General continued.

            "They left everything else alone.  And as soon as your fighter was downed, they cleared the atmosphere and jumped to hyperspace.  You were their only target."

            "They're Vong," Kyp said flatly, passing the datapad over to Jaina. 

            Jaina stared at him in shock for a minute, then looked back over at General Darklighter.  He nodded.  "You brought down a few of the fighters.  We couldn't find any living survivors, but the casualties we did find were Yuuzhan Vong.  We don't know why they're targeting you, Jaina, but it does look like they're specifically after you."

            Jaina read through the datapad and looked up, perplexed.  "But they flew Uglies," she said.  "I thought they didn't like technology."

            Darklighter leaned back in his chair.  "They've been adapting," he said.  "They don't like it, but some of them have been learning how to use it.  The fact that they flew Uglies doesn't mean that we can automatically rule out the Vong.  We don't know why they're going after you, but you've become a target."

            "Ask Harrar or Tahiri," Jaina said.  Her gaze again went to Kyp's.  "They'd have some idea, wouldn't they?"

            It was a good suggestion.  Kyp nodded slowly.  "That would be my recommendation," he agreed.

            "Then I'll talk with them," Darklighter said.  He leaned forward.  "Jaina, you can't let anyone know that you have memory loss.  Until we figure out who is attacking you and why, we don't want anyone to know this was more than an attempt at ambushing cargo on Reseja."

            "I know," Jaina said.  A hand came up and rubbed at the side of her head.  "I might not remember all the military procedures, but I do have common sense left.  It makes sense, sir."

            "Good."  He leaned back in his chair once more.  "I'm sorry this happened to you, Jaina.  If there's anything I can do..."

            "Actually, sir, there is."  She took a deep breath.  "I lost five pilots.  I'd like to have their information so I can write to their families."

            "The families have already been notified, Sticks."

            Her mouth twisted.  "I know.  But I'd like to write all the same, sir.  I was their commander.  The families deserve to have something from the person who sent them to their deaths."

            Darklighter stared at her for a long time, then switched his gaze over to Kyp.  "Are you sure she doesn't remember anything?" he demanded.

            Kyp raised his eyebrows.  "She wouldn't remember that."

            "Permission granted," General Darklighter said.  "I'll send the information over to you.  You've always done that, Sticks.  Some things haven't changed."

            "That's good to know," Jaina said.  She met the General's confused eyes.  "At least I was a responsible leader before."

            "You were."  He stood.  "I'll contact Sekot and see if anyone there can shed any light on this attack.  We're probably dealing with a splinter group of Vong.  I'll let you know what I find out.  Until this is resolved, Solo, you and your squadron are both inactive, understood?"

            Her "Yes, sir," was quiet.

            "Good."  He seemed to soften.  "It'll work out, Jaina.  Don't worry."

            "Sorry, sir."

            He smiled.  "Take care of her, Durron.  I'll let you know what I find out."

Hee, I do so like writing Han.  What did you think?

-Ketharil


	6. Chapter 6

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 6 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

Jaina blinked as the world began to tilt dizzily around her.  "Kyp?" she asked, swaying a bit.  "Can we stop for a minute?"

            Kyp turned his head to look at her.  Immediately concern lit his eyes and his arm was around her.  "You're white as Hoth," he said, guiding her to the concrete planter at the edge of the walkway.  Strong hands encircled her waist; his arms tensed and he lifted her up to sit on it.

"I should have known better.  You're a day out of bacta."

            "I just need a minute," she whispered, not liking how shaky her voice was, how her hands were trembling.  She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, then another.  Had she ever been in bacta for so long before?  She didn't think so.  Four days.  No wonder she still felt a bit shaken.  Four days hanging suspended in liquid was enough to render anyone's muscles weak.  But she had made it nearly all the way home without collapsing; her parents' apartment was only one building down.

            She finally opened her eyes and found herself looking directly at Kyp.  Sitting on the planter's raised border as she was, her eyes were level with his.  "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

            His eyes were pools of dark green with tiny flecks of brown floating in their depths.  She blinked, tried to focus.  "Yes," she said.  She managed a half-hearted smile.  "Can we sit for a bit longer, though?"

            Kyp turned and sat to the left of her on the planter.  Jaina looked down at her dangling feet; his touched the ground.  "I guess I didn't really grow any the past ten years," she observed ruefully, placing her palms flat on the concrete on either side of her and locking her elbows in place.  She pressed down, felt her left arm twinge, and continued to stretch.  

            "Not taller," Kyp said.  "But you grew."

            Jaina agreed with him silently.  She had stared at herself in the mirror earlier that morning, once she had finished her shower.  Somehow she had grown into a woman's body.  Her face was no longer rounded with the last vestiges of childhood, as it had been ten years earlier.  And sometime in the last ten years she'd developed hips.  That had perhaps been the one thing she'd noticed the most in her reflection.  She wasn't a girl anymore.  She'd grown into a woman's body.   Brown hair fell much longer than it had, and somewhere along the line she had decided to grow her bangs out, since they were now nearly as long as the rest of her hair.  She was still slender– skinny, Jacen had called it– but where her slightness ten years ago came from teenage metabolism, now it came from actual fitness.  She had been surprised to note the strength in her arms, the toned upper arm and the muscles that flickered along her wrist each time she curled her fingers.  It was a pilot's strength, the muscles developed from years of wrestling with a control stick.  She'd tested her grip and confirmed that she was indeed a devoted pilot: it had been stronger, her fingers more flexible. 

            But even though her reflection taunted her with its subtle differences, Jaina had stared at her hands the most that morning.  Of everything, they had perhaps changed the most.  She looked down at them again now, not really wanting to discuss how her body had changed– not with Kyp, who presumably knew her body well enough to discuss those changes with her.  Seeing her hands was still a shock.  The hands she expected to see would have been small, with a few faint scars along the knuckles from tinkering with ships, with callouses from her lightsaber along the palm of her right hand and the tip of her left index finger worn smooth from a burn she'd received as a child.  Though she didn't want to admit it, the hands she expected to see would have been pale and soft, hands of a girl who was only a fighter by chance, not by necessity.

            Her hands now were still small, with delicate slim fingers tapering into carefully trimmed short nails.  Her index finger was still dented slightly with the burn scar, and she still had a line of callouses from her lightsaber handle.  But there the resemblance ended.  Jaina counted again all the new scars, light silver scratches against her rougher hands.  Both palms now bore strips of callouses; they had confused her until she had thought of an X-wing's control stick.  Her right hand had a smaller, newer callous on the inside of her middle finger.  That one had baffled her until she had asked her father about it.  He'd simply opened a cabinet, pulled out a military-issue blaster, and tossed it to her.  Jaina had been shocked to find that her fingers automatically curled around it correctly; the rough patch of skin on her finger came from just under the trigger, where the blaster rested against her hand.  Her hands were no longer the smooth and soft hands of a girlish apprentice, but the hands of a fighter.

            And, of course, the main difference was the line of pale skin under the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.  Her left thumb went automatically to the band of cool metal, as if to reassure herself that it was still there.  She suspected, based on her hands, that she had a habit of touching her ring like that– it simply felt so normal.

            Without really thinking about what she was doing, she raised her eyes from her hands and reached out to pick up one of Kyp's hands.  She remembered what she was doing as he tensed beside her, and gritted her teeth and decided to act casually.

            "Can I ask some questions?"

            She thought she heard a sigh.  "Sure, Goddess.  What do you want to know?"

            Jaina took his hand– it was his left– in both of hers, and turned it so the palm faced up.  "You said we've been living together for six or seven months, and we've been engaged for a about a year," she recalled, studying his palm, not daring to look at him.  "How long have we been lovers?"

            "Just over two years," Kyp said, and from the tone of his voice she could tell that he was fighting to keep it steady and neutral.  

            His hand was just as scarred as hers, just as rough and worn.  Jaina was curious, and so spread her right hand flat out over his, matching her fingers up against his.  Kyp's hand dwarfed hers easily; her palm nestled into his with room to spare, and the tips of her fingers just missed touching his top knuckles.  

            "And how long were we together before that?"  She understood Kyp's trouble in keeping his voice level; hers was alarmingly nervous.

            He sighed, and the hand she held shifted, his fingers lacing through hers and curling tight around her hand.  "A few months.  You and Jag stopped seeing each other maybe half a year earlier."

            "Why did Jag and I break up?"  

            Kyp frowned.  "I wouldn't call it breaking up, not really.  You two just sort of backed off until you were just friends with each other.  No arguing, no one of you brokenhearted because the other left.  You just sort of turned into friends again instead of going together."

            "Oh."  She considered this until her brain kicked in and reminded her that he hadn't answered the question.  "But why did we do that?"

            He was silent for a long minute.  "I don't know," he said at last.  "You would never tell me."  Frustration and something else– worry?  Fear?– laced through his voice despite his best attempts to hide it.  "But he gave you that necklace and you two still seemed friendly afterwards."

            Jaina felt a smile tugging at her lips, and let it spread.  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're jealous," she teased, meeting his eyes.  "Worried I'm going to run off and leave you?"

            But the intent stare that greeted her had her smile fading.  "Yes."

            The answer shocked her into silence.  He looked down from her surprised gaze, not willing to admit more.  

            Jaina swallowed.  "Did I ever give you reason to believe that I would?" she asked quietly.

            He glanced over at her for a brief second, then back down at their entwined fingers.  "No," he said at last.  "But I tend to be a bit possessive.  You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Jaina.  I don't want to lose you.  Not to Jag, not to this."

            A lump had settled in her throat.  She might not remember being a close friend with him or being his apprentice or even being in love with him, but she did remember the Kyp Durron of ten years before always being somber and alone.  The holos her father had brought her that morning had shown a different Kyp Durron– a happier one, a more content man.

            Jaina scooted closer to him and rested her head on his arm.  "I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if I hadn't meant it," she said, putting her left hand on his arm.  She was sure of it: one thing that she always valued was the strength of promises, of her word.  She wouldn't have given him her word if she had seriously considered leaving him.  "And I'm seriously thinking about what that means for me now."  She took a breath.  "I'm probably never going to remember the last ten years.  I might never be the woman you loved again."

            Kyp was on his feet faster than she thought possible.  He pulled her from the planter to stand before him, and kept his hands on her shoulders.  He simply looked at her, green eyes searching, and then said, "You'll always be the woman I love.  No matter what."

            Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and Jaina forced herself to ignore them.  "Are you sure?  You'd still marry me even though–"

            "I would," he said firmly.  His voice, when he continued, was hopeful.  "Does this mean you're thinking about going through with it?"

            Jaina blinked furiously, trying to keep from crying.  "I'm selfish.  You love me and you made me happy.  I want to be happy again.  Yes, I'm thinking about it."

            The tension seemed to drain from him in one huge rush.  "Good," Kyp said, and pulled her close.  For half a second, Jaina was sure he was going to kiss her, but then something in his face changed and he simply wrapped his arms around her.  His body was lean and warm and hard against hers; he seemed relaxed for the first time since she'd seen him lounging in her bedroom doorway that morning.  

            Jaina, on the other hand, felt as though all the tension he'd released had somehow slipped from his body to hers.  She was acutely aware of the muscles of Kyp's chest under her cheek.  Her hands rested along his back, and she had to fight to keep them still and flat rather than send them exploring or fisting in his shirt.  She was quite sure she wasn't breathing properly, and wondered vaguely if it was healthy for her heart to pound so fast.  Probably not.

            He bent his head over hers, and she felt his lips press a soft kiss into her hair.  "Thank you," he whispered gratefully, arms protectively encircling her.  "It's more than I could have expected."

            Jaina quelled a shiver.  His voice vibrated through his chest; she could hear the rumble of it against her temple before the words actually left his mouth.  

            "You deserve a chance," she said honestly as his arms loosened and finally released.  She turned toward the building, and then abruptly back to him.  "Thank you for still believing in me."

            His smile was less reserved, less haunted by worry.  "Anything for a Goddess."  He sketched a quick bow, and Jaina forced herself to enter the building and leave him behind.  She crossed the entrance hall, mind half-registering that her mother's Noghri bodyguard was standing in the corner, and entered the lift.  As it started up, she let her mind drift.

            She shouldn't feel so flustered at simply being held.  After all, she reminded herself, fighting to keep her blush from showing, she had apparently been much more intimate with Kyp before.  

            But she couldn't remember anything like this ever happening to her before.  Zekk had held her before; she remembered that.  They had traded dreamy kisses at the Academy– which would now have been years ago, she reminded herself– and had spent long evenings in his arms watching Yavin's sky and talking.  Zekk had certainly been handsome then, and from the holos her father had shown her, still was.  But, Jaina admitted, forcing herself to be ruthless in her thoughts as the lift opened, Zekk had been a boy- a youth, for all his experience on the streets.  Kyp was definitely not a boy.

            She started down the hall, sighing.  A simple hug shouldn't have gotten her so twisted up.  She needed to devote a solid block of time to the problem of Kyp.

            Jaina paused before the door.  Kyp was confusing.  Not good, not bad, simply confusing.  Everything else, she thought she could deal with.  Her parents wouldn't like the news from General Darklighter, but then again, her parents were of the opinion that Jaina belonged safely tucked away in Shelter.  Jaina frowned; where had that bit of opinion come from?  Her subconscious again, no doubt, prodding her with vague bits of information that were completely useless.  Shelter had been that base for the Jedi children in the Maw, hadn't it?  Useless.  Completely useless.

            Still, it was a memory, and Jaina smiled, pleased.  She brought her hand up to the keypad, paused, and let her hand drop.  "Sithspawn!"  She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and then pounded on the door.

            She really needed to ask what the door code was.


	7. Chapter 7

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 7 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Kyp had finally made up his mind.  He would do it.  It was the right thing to do.  She was entitled to it, after all.  It was probably what was best for her, and that was really all that mattered in the end.  Jaina deserved to be happy.  She had earned the right to be alive and well and happy.  

            It was just after midnight, and all the rooms were dark and silent.  A mere eleven days ago, at the same time, nearly every light had been on and fast-paced music designed to keep sentient beings awake had been playing.  He'd been distracting Jaina as she'd tried to work out some detail about her squadron– he had lounged on the couch, using the Force to tug at her hair, move her datapads just out of reach, or simply try to push her out of her chair.  She'd been more amused than upset, but she'd been a bit indignant that he was keeping her from her work.  

            They'd been laughing, bantering back and forth with the same sarcastic wit they'd perfected on each other years ago.  She had finally tossed down her datapad, crossed the room, and cuddled up against him on the couch, draping her body over his like a warm, living blanket.  It was morning before either had moved from the couch.  Jaina had left that same afternoon for Reseja.

            Kyp took a deep breath.  He had made up his mind twenty minutes ago, sitting on the bed and running his fingers along the cool metal of her hair clip until it had warmed from his touch.  It had taken all his strength to move out to the comm center in the living room; now he simply sat before the screen, trying to force himself to move.

            It would be the right thing to do.  He had convinced himself of that much, but he still sat motionless, his mind unable to convince his body to act.  

            She deserved any chance she had at happiness.  He hadn't been the only one she'd been happy with.

            It was the hardest thing he'd ever done to simply lift his hand to the control panel and begin.

-

            Jaina shut the door to her room behind her with a click.  It was just past midnight.  At her mother's insistence, she had bid her family goodnight and had burrowed into her blankets some four hours ago.

            She hadn't been able to sleep at all.  She was tired, yawning and bleary-eyed, but sleep still wouldn't come.  She had gone out to the quiet living room and curled up in the same chair that she'd managed to fall asleep in last night, but it hadn't helped this time.  After a half hour of increasing discomfort, she had given up and returned to her room, where she at least had a bed to lie out on as she waited for dreams.

            She had nothing else to do but think, and thinking was beginning to hurt.  Things were so confusing she had mentally divided them up into sections: Jedi, pilot, family, friends, and Kyp. 

            _Jedi_ and _pilot_ were easy enough to figure out: she was a Jedi, and she was a pilot.  Supposedly simple, but nothing had proved simple in the past two days.  She was, according to her uncle, the Sword of the Jedi– whatever that meant.  But if she listened to Jacen, that didn't matter much anymore.  She wasn't on the new High Council, though Kyp was and so she apparently knew a bit more than the average Jedi about how things were done.  Even being a pilot was complicated.  She had somehow attained the rank of Commander and had a whole squadron under her leadership, even though that squadron was now halfway decimated.  She'd never envisioned herself in the military.

            _Family_ was different now too.  Anakin, with his bright eyes and limitless potential, was gone.  Had been gone for years.  She'd been one of the few members of the mission that had killed him; she'd been the one to lead the survivors to safety after his death.  But she still couldn't remember it, and she had to remind herself that Anakin was not going to simply bound into her room to show off some new and horrendously complicated puzzle he'd just completed.  Seeing holos of him, eternally a teenager and eternally cheerful, made her somehow feel old and guilty that she'd lived.  

            It hurt.  

            Chewie's loss hurt almost as much.  He'd been an honorary uncle to her, a favored babysitter, a staunch defended.  He'd saved her life when she was barely more than a toddler; he'd taught her how to speak Wookiee and which end of a hydrospanner to hold.  He'd been the one to convince Han to let her help with the _Falcon_.  He had helped teach her to fly by letting her sit on his lap when she was little.  

            Part of her felt guilty over the fact that she accepted Chewbacca's death easier than Anakin's.  It was easier to mourn Chewie than it was to mourn her little brother.  She understood how to mourn for friends, for honorary members of her family.  Mourning for family she hadn't wanted to learn.

            The only bright side was that she had a cousin now.  Ben.  Although he was now several years old and she had only learned of his existence yesterday.

            _Friends_.  Her friends appeared just as changed as her family.  At the Academy, she had taken her friends for granted: Zekk, of course, handsome, a bit rough, and her main competition in just about anything; Tenel Ka, fit and serious and loyal; Lowie, who perhaps understood her the best of them all, supportive and somehow older-brother-ish; even Em Teedee, his too-talkative droid; Raynar, noble and kind and a bit too colorful; Lusa, skittish and beautiful.  She'd never thought that they would grow apart.  Now they were scattered across the galaxy, some dead, some missing, some leading, some following.  

            And there were a whole crowd of others to help take their place.  Jagged Fel topped the list, and she silently listed what she knew about him.  Pilot from the Unknown Regions.  Wedge Antilles's nephew.  Her friend for nearly nine years; possibly more than that for some of them.  He called her 'Great One' to annoy her.  He'd given her a necklace, and Kyp Durron was jealous of him.

            There were more names after that.  Some she recognized, and she wondered how and why she'd had become friends with them: her brother's friend Tahiri, Releqi A'Kla, Wedge and Iella Antilles, Saba and Tesar, Kenth Hamner.  Some she couldn't remember at all and were only names and faces remembered from recently-seen holos: Danni Quee, Tekli, Droma, Harrar, Piggy, Sharr, Shawnkyr...  The names were unfamiliar, but she had painstakingly memorized them.  She had been able to claim them as friends, which said they had meant something to her.

            She was loathe to give up anything that held meaning until she understood _why_ the meaning was there in the first place.

            Which brought her to Kyp. 

            Kyp had become a category all to himself because he was at the center of the web Jaina found herself tangled in.  Jaina rolled over onto her left side, felt her shoulder ache, and sighed and rolled back onto her back.  She stared at the ceiling for a moment, then forced herself to shut her eyes and think.

            She was comfortable around him, as she had tried to explain to Jacen.  She felt safe around him.  And yes, she forced herself to admit, she was attracted to him.  Which was a surprise in and of itself.

            Looking at things logically, Jaina had determined that it had made sense that she'd fallen in love and agreed to marry Kyp Durron.  The two of them became friends during the war, worked together nearly every day for a few years, risked their lives for each other and saved each other countless times.  He was one of perhaps three other Jedi who would understand just what falling to the Dark Side had done to her.  He was as good a pilot– _almost_ the competitive part of her mind whispered– as she was.  Jaina could understand how, under the circumstances, their friendship had become love and their love had become commitment.  

            She just didn't remember any of it happening.

            She'd spoken the truth earlier: she was seriously considering marrying Kyp anyways.  She believed– truly believed–  that he had been honest when he'd told her they had been happy together.  The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, made her understand just how much he had loved her.  Any woman would be happy to have a man that loved her like that.

            But it wouldn't be fair to Kyp to marry him.  Not before she found out if she could make _him_ happy.  He might have loved the Jaina of three days ago, but if she turned out to be a different Jaina, no matter what declarations he made, he might not love her still.  It wouldn't be fair to trap him into a marriage with the memory of the woman he loved.

            So she had six more days to think things over.

            Six days.

            Jaina opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wishing she could fall asleep and stop thinking.  Six days was so little time to try and remember why she had been happy with Kyp.  So little time to try and remember why she had loved him.  She needed to discover if she could still make him happy before she gave him an answer.  She needed to know if there was a chance for them still.

            She sat up and moved off her bed, beginning to pace around her darkened room.  If she could learn to love him again– if she could still make him happy– if he could still make _her_ happy– she would marry him.  As she told him, she was selfish.  She wanted to be happy.  And she did trust the person she'd become over the past ten years.  If that Jaina had been able to love Kyp; if Kyp had been able to love that Jaina–  then perhaps she had a chance.

            But not if she wasn't able to get a few hours of sleep.  Was she doomed to have insomnia for the rest of her life?  First last night she'd been unable to drift into unconsciousness; now tonight.  If her mind hadn't been buzzing with so many questions, she'd have slipped into a Jedi trance.  As it was, she didn't think she'd be able to clear her brain enough to order her thoughts into meditation, much less a trance.  

            If it wouldn't hurt so much, she'd seriously contemplate smacking a large blunt object into her forehead and knocking herself out.  She wanted the peace of deep sleep, the oblivion of dreams free of whirling thoughts and searching questions.  Was that so much to ask?

            She turned and continued pacing.  Her eye caught a patch of slick darkness, and she paused.  Then she bent and picked it up.  Kyp's cape unfolded in a whoosh of dark cloth.  He hadn't seen her back to the apartment and so had forgotten to take it back; Threepio had probably found it, folded it, and placed it neatly on her desk.

            Jaina hesitated, then buried her face in the cape and inhaled.  Kyp's scent was faint and nearly gone, but something of it lingered in the folds.  She felt a bit of the tension she'd been trying to release through pacing drift away.

            She stood still before her desk for a long minute, then she turned and crawled back into bed.  Hugging the cape to her as though it were another blanket, she pillowed her cheek on a corner of it and shut her eyes.

            The part of her that remembered such things without releasing specific memories recognized the scent and began to calm.  Gradually, her breathing evened out and slowed.  Promising herself she'd think about it later, Jaina gave a sigh of relief.  In a matter of minutes, Jaina was dragged down into the welcome blankness of sleep, one hand tightly wrapped around the frayed edge of the cape.

-

            _Done._

            Kyp leaned back, suddenly wearily, as he shut down the comm unit.  He'd explained Jaina's memory loss, her driving need to understand what she had done over the past ten years.  He hadn't said that he was afraid of losing her.  He'd managed to hide his grief.  His concern had been only for Jaina, not for himself.

            All in all, it had been well done, he thought.  He stood, felt muscles protest and heard joints pop, and felt truly old for the first time since he'd first kissed Jaina years ago.  She'd managed to make him feel young again.  Kyp supposed he'd have to get used to feeling his age.

            He moved into their bedroom– now solely his bedroom– and pulled off his shirt and boots before he sat on carefully down on his side of the bed.  He put Jaina's hair clip back into the stand beside the bed, turned off the lights, and lay down.  The bed was somehow huge and cold without Jaina beside him; lying on his back, he reached his left hand out for where she should have been and found nothing but air.

            He sighed softly.  He'd have to get used to that, too.

            Kyp shut his eyes.  He'd done the right thing.  Jag would be here the day after next.

            He had one day left.  One last day alone with Jaina.  She'd wanted to see her X-wing, so he would take her flying.  And then he'd kiss her goodbye– he was adamant on that part; he'd kiss her one last time before things were taken out of his control– and let her know he'd contacted Jag and when the pilot was landing.

            And then she could ask Jag about the time she'd spent with him, about why the two of them had split up.  And then they'd most likely decide that it had been a mistake to break up and get back together.  She'd give Kyp back the ring he'd been so proud she'd accepted, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.  It had been a miracle she'd chosen him in the first place– what woman in her right mind would love him?  She'd leave him for Jag; he more than half expected her to... but she'd be happy.

            And really, did anything else matter?

            _Yes!_ part of his mind screamed. _Aren't **I** allowed to be happy for once?  I was close, so close to having her be mine forever.  Isn't loving her enough?  I've lost enough in my life; I don't need to lose her.  Not when I was so close.  I did everything I could to keep her happy.  I loved her.  Force help me, I still do._

            He turned his head into his pillow, reminded himself that he was nearly forty and far too old to cry over a girl like a teenager.

            _Shouldn't loving her have been enough?_


	8. Chapter 8

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 8 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

The expression on Jaina's face as she approached her X-wing was more than enough to make up for her incessant questions on where he was taking her.

            "This is mine?" she asked, eyes glowing with awe.

            Kyp reached a hand up and trailed it along the sleek belly of the snubfighter.  "This is yours," he confirmed.  

            Jaina gave a small, quickly muffled shriek of joy, and darted ahead of him.  She seemed intent on discovering every last scratch and nick on her ship; she exclaimed over scorch marks and dents, touched the wires hanging out of the landing struts, and seemed incredulous at the amount of kills painted on the side.

            Kyp drank in her happiness, enjoying her obvious delight.  Part of him was storing this up, pessimistically certain that it would be the last time he could make her eyes light up with joy.  But most of him was simply enjoying the outing.  Around Jaina, it was hard to brood.  Her presence kept him firmly rooted in the present, where she was.  Only when she was absent did Kyp return to his habitual distance from the world.

            And she was all too present now, practically bubbling over as she circled her ship.  "Mine," she whispered again, grin stretching wide.  She turned back to him.  "Can I fly today?"

            He grinned back at her.  "I cleared it with Control," he informed her.

            Jaina laughed before she could help it and flung herself into his arms.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted, wrapping her arms around him in a brief and tight hug.  She pulled away.  "Will you fly out with me so I don't get lost?"

            Kyp reluctantly stepped away from her, and pointed.  "That's mine," he said, and had the satisfaction of seeing her jaw drop.  

            She studied his ship for a long minute, then asked, "A Sekotan fighter?  Like what Jacen was talking about?"

            "Yeah," Kyp said, and moved towards the ship, Jaina hurrying beside him.  "She's called Stubborn."

            Jaina laughed again and came to a stop before the Sekotan ship.  "Let me guess– you named her."

            Kyp's lips twisted into a wry smile.  "I think it was a mutual decision referring to both of us."

            "I don't doubt it," she murmured, and hesitantly placed her hand against Stubborn's glowing green skin.  Stubborn recognized her and the skin seemed to shift under Jaina's hand, a fitful shudder that had Jaina gasping and pulling her hand back.

            "No, wait," Kyp said, and put his own hand on Stubborn's side.  "Give her a minute to say hello."

            With his hand touching Stubborn, the weak telepathic link between pilot and ship flared to life.  Stubborn wasn't quite a _voice_ in the Force, but her emotions were clear.  Welcome, friendship, recognition, questions– "Try again, Jaina."

            Jaina's smaller hand reached up once more and gently pressed against the ship.  Stubborn considered for a moment, then recognition came and the welcome.  Not that Jaina could feel it; she hadn't bonded with Stubborn, and Stubborn wasn't her ship.  But over the years, the two had come in contact often enough for Stubborn to recognize her.

            Jaina laughed.  "She's soft."

            Kyp stroked the ship and finally released her.  "We'll follow you out," he told Jaina.  He jerked his head toward her X-wing.  "Let's see how much your body still remembers."

-

            Jaina settled into the cockpit a bit uneasily.  She'd crashed this same X-wing a week ago, losing ten years along the way.  It was a miracle that the techs had managed to get it into flying condition, but as she had climbed the access ladder, the tech lowering her astromech droid had assured her that it was spaceworthy again.

            "Just don't try another landing like that last one, Commander," he'd said cheerfully, tentacles waving at her.

            She wished she could remember his name.  "Don't worry, I won't," she muttered, and his tentacles had gone into fits and spasms she thought meant he was laughing.

            "Give Durron a good chase," he'd called over his shoulder, wheeling the ladder back.  "You let him catch you awful fast last time."

            So they'd done this before.  That at least explained why none of the military personnel in the hanger had given them a second glance.

            She pulled her hair back and stuffed her helmet on.  "Well, here goes nothing," she sighed, reaching for the controls.

            Beeps and whirs behind her startled her, and she glanced at her screen.

            WHY DO I HAVE MY DOUBTS THAT THIS WILL BE NOTHING?

            Jaina frowned.  "What?"

            MY EXPERIENCE WITH YOU AND MASTER DURRON HAS INDICATED THAT THIS FLIGHT WILL NOT QUALIFY AS "NOTHING".  There was an emphatic _bleep_ to punctuate the droid's opinion.  BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU, "NOTHING" DOES NOT EXIST.

            Confused, Jaina stared at the small blue screen, even as her hands automatically began prepping the X-wing for flight.  "In other words, this is going to be an interesting flight."

            THAT'S ONE WAY TO PUT IT.

            "Goddess?"  Kyp's voice was strong even through the comm.  "What's taking you so long?"

            She toggled her comm on even as she realized she'd completed the start-up cycle.  "My droid is disagreeing with me."

            He swore.  "Oh yeah, I forgot.  That's Zero-One.  He's got issues."

            There was a rude _blat_ from the astromech.  MERELY BECAUSE I INSULT HIM.

            "You insult him?  Why?"

            BECAUSE IT'S EASY.  AND SO FEW OTHERS DARE TO.  Zero-One hummed.  I, INCIDENTALLY, AM AWARE YOUR MEMORY WAS ERASED.  I PREFER TO TREAT YOU AS IF IT WERE NOT.

            "And you're my astromech?"  Jaina watched the flight crew direct her off of the ground and toward the hanger exit; she flipped on her repulsorlifts and began to maneuver past other grounded fighters.

            TECHNICALLY I AM THE PROPERTY OF MASTER DURRON.  HOWEVER, AS HE HAS NO NEED FOR A DROID WITH THAT LIVING MONSTROSITY HE CALLS A SHIP, I OFFERED MY SERVICES TO YOU SOME YEARS AGO, AND YOU ACCEPTED.

            The hanger opened yawned before her; Jaina switched her repulsorlifts off and heard the hum of sublight engines as she prepared for open air.  "And he just let me steal you?"

            HE DID NOT HAVE MUCH OF A CHOICE.  BESIDES, HE SAID HE WAS HAPPY TO BE RID OF ME, EVEN IF HE WAS RELUCTANT TO BURDEN YOU WITH ME.  Another indignant beep told Jaina Zero-One's opinion of that statement.  I AM GLAD YOU SURVIVED THE LANDING, GODDESS.  I WOULD NOT WANT TO HAVE TO BREAK IN A NEW PILOT AGAIN.

            The X-wing roared out into the open air, and Jaina executed a hard turn and angled the nose of the fighter straight up before punching in the sublight engines to their full power.  She couldn't keep the smile from her face.  "I think we get along pretty well, don't we, Zero-One?"

            WE DO.

            Joy bubbled through her veins.  "Then let's see how fast we can lose Master Durron."

            AN EXCELLENT IDEA.  

            The atmosphere quickly faded and turned into black space; Jaina pulled a barrel roll for the sheer fun of it.  She had always loved flying.  Now it seemed to come even easier– she was relying on instincts, on remembered actions that her body recalled and her mind didn't.

            "You're going to get lost, Goddess," Kyp's voice said in her ear.

            She laughed.  "Not today, I'm not.  Come on, Two, catch me if you can."  

-

            Kyp was the first back into the hanger, and he was waiting for her when she pressed her cockpit open.  She didn't wait for the tech to wheel a ladder over for her; she bounded out of her seat, down the front of the X-wing's nose, and dropped to the ground in front of him.  She was exuberant, riding high from the thrill of their chase, and it seemed as though she had never lost her memory.  Just like every other time they had flown out together, she moved willingly into his embrace.

            He picked her up and spun her for a dizzying second.  She laughed, and as he set her feet back on the ground, she rocked up on her tiptoes and lightly kissed his cheek.  "I almost got away," she teased.

            She had gotten away, and she just didn't know it yet.  The pleasure of the afternoon began to pale as Kyp recalled what was to happen the next morning.  "Almost?" he scoffed, incredulous.  He hooked his arm around her shoulders and shortened his step so she could keep up with him as they left the hanger.  "You're delusional."

            She laughed again; Kyp cherished the sound.  He had made her laugh.  "You just don't want to admit that I almost won."

            "I have no problem admitting that you _almost_ won," he said, looking down at her.  "Since I in fact _did_ win."

            She rolled her eyes.  "You're impossible."

            "So you've often said."  His grin spread.  "But you love me anyway.  Or–" he amended hastily, mentally cursing for forgetting she was not the same Jaina that he had bantered with like this before, "– you used to, at least."

            But Jaina's good spirits weren't diminished.  "I think I might have remembered doing that before," she said.  "It seemed so _familiar_.  Maybe that muscle memory Tekli was talking about.  But I can fly, Kyp!  I'm really a decent pilot."

            "Above decent," he agreed.  "And you remembered something beyond muscle memory, Goddess."

            Her brown eyes brightened and she tilted her head to look up at him.  "Really?  What?"

            "You called me Two."  She frowned, clearly confused, and he explained, "When we flew in Twin Suns together, I was Twin Suns Two.  You remembered that much."

            She made a face.  "Useless," she decided.

            "What?"

            "Everything I remember is completely useless," she said, and she wasn't smiling any longer.  "I remember little things that don't really matter.  I never remember anything important."

            "I might have a bit of a solution to that," Kyp said, and stopped.  They were standing just outside the hanger, at the top of the wide flight of steps that led down to the street.  "I talked with Jag Fel last night and explained what happened.  I figured you'd want to talk to him, so I asked if he'd come up and talk to you."

            Jaina pulled away and looked at him.  She searched his face, her own face drawn and concerned.  "Thank you," she said at last.  "I do have some questions for him."

            "I thought you did," Kyp said, aching.  He was going to lose her.  "He'll be here tomorrow morning.  I can bring you down again, if you'd like."  He hoped she'd refuse; he didn't think he'd want to be present to see her when she realized she didn't belong with him.

            "No," she said, and her voice and eyes had gone someplace far away.  "I think I need to talk to him by myself."

            He had expected that, and still his heart plummeted at her words.  So he told her what time Jag planned on arriving, and what part of the bay he'd be assigned to, as they continued on their way home.  Jaina had grown pensive, withdrawn, the closer they drew to her parents' building.  

            "I'll leave you here," Kyp said at last, just outside the building.

            She at last snapped back to reality.  "Oh no you don't," she growled, and took his hand.  She pulled him into the building and dragged him into the lift with her.  "The last two times I've had to pound on the door because you always leave without entering the doorcode," she informed him.  "And since I keep forgetting to ask what the code is, you're not leaving til you open the damn door."

            He'd forgotten and shook his head.  "You really should learn the code," he said, and recited the string of numbers.

            She stared at him.  "Right.  There's no way I can remember that right off."  The lift opened and she tugged him out into the hallway.  She stopped at the door and crossed her arms.  "Please?"

            He punched in the code; the light flashed green and the door cycled open.  Before he could stop her, Jaina darted inside.  "Wait here," she said.  In less than a minute, she was back.  "This is yours.  You forgot it yesterday."

            It was his cape; Kyp swung it over his shoulders and tied it in place.  "Thanks."  He looked down at her and hesitated.  She stood in the doorjamb, somehow very small and fragile.

            But he had made a promise to himself, and he fully intended to keep it.  He reached out with one hand to touch her cheek, and bent his head.  To his surprise, her eyes weren't surprised, nor did she back away.  She stepped toward him and tilted her head to meet him, resting a small hand on his chest for balance as she stretched up on her toes.

            Her lips were as soft and warm as he'd remembered, but hesitant.  Kyp took care to be gentle, savoring the taste of her, the way her mouth felt pressed against him.  When he carefully raised his head and stepped back from her, her rosy lips parted on a sigh.

            "Goodbye, Goddess," Kyp said simply.

            "See you later," she whispered.  He turned away.

            _No_, he thought, entering the lift, _it was goodbye._

-

            Jaina stepped back into the living room and pressed the door closed with a trembling hand.  She turned around, leaned back against the door, and raised the same slightly shaking hand to her mouth.

            Threepio clanked into the room.  "Oh, Mistress Jaina, I thought that I heard you come in.  I've begun preparing supper, and I thought that perhaps..."

            Her habit of tuning Threepio out was longstanding and inherited from her father.  She put it to good use now as her fingertips lightly traced her lips.

            He could still make her happy; flying with him today had proved it.

            And if that was a taste of his kisses, then he hadn't lied when he said she had never complained about them.  Coherent thought was hard enough– she didn't think she had enough mental energy to form a full sentence, much less a complaint.

            Jaina pushed herself away from the wall in a daze.

            "Mistress Jaina?  I say, Mistress Jaina, are you all right?"

            She moved past him toward her room.  "I'm fine, Threepio."

            "Oh, I'm so relieved.  You look a bit flushed.  Perhaps if you were to lie down before your parents return home you would..."

            Her bedroom door shut in his face.  Taken a bit aback, Threepio stared at the shut door.  "She gets more like Captain Solo every day," he declared.  "Imagine that, Mistress Jaina _ignoring_ me!  Why, I'm speechless."


	9. Chapter 9

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 9 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

She stood alone in the hanger bay, watching as the strange ship– a clawcraft, her father had told her, that's what the Chiss fighters were called– landed.  She was nervous.  This was the first time she'd meet a person from those ten years that she hadn't actually known before.  Jagged Fel was a complete stranger to her, and yet he was intrinsically woven through her life.

            Not for the first time, Jaina swore to herself and wished none of this had happened.  Life would be much simpler.

            The access hatch opened, and the pilot pulled himself up out of the ball-shaped cockpit.  He balanced easily on the top of his craft, unfastened his helmet and tossed it down into the ship.  Jagged Fel– it could be no one else– jumped down to the hanger bay and started toward her.

            Jaina forced her legs to move and walked toward him, soaking up first impressions.  About as tall as Kyp, with the same lean build and compact muscles of a pilot.  Dark hair with a streak of white running through it; as he got closer, she could make out the scar that caused it and the warm green eyes.  He wore an Imperial-style flight suit, and looked undeniably crisp.

            But the physical she had seen already in holos.  Handsome, definitely, and Jaina admitted without amusement that she seemed to fall for dark-haired pilots with green eyes.  Zekk, Kyp, Jagged...  She wondered vaguely if there were more similarities between the three than simply met the eye, and stored that thought away for later.  Instead, she focused on her emotions.  

            A vague sense of friendship, and a tug of attraction– those were easily obvious.  But beneath them was a sense of solid strength: loyalty, honor, courage.  

            Part of her relaxed.  She was safe with him.

            They stopped in the middle of the hanger bay, standing about a foot apart.  Jag smiled then, and held out a hand.  "Jagged Fel," he said.  "But I suppose since you're here, you know that much."

            She smiled, threw caution to the wind, and ignored his hand to step forward and hug him.  "I know a bit," she agreed, stepping back.  "Kyp said you'd agreed to come out and talk with me."

            "Sure."  Jag hesitated.  "Do you remember the botanicals about a kilometer from here?"

            Jaina shook her head.  

            "It's a quiet public garden," he informed her.  "We usually go there to talk."  He offered her his arm as though they were in a formal court.  "Shall we?"

            She accepted it.  "How were you able to get here so fast?" she asked as they moved through the hanger.

            Jagged smiled.  "I was barely out of the system," he said.  "I was already planning on being here for your wedding, and since my uncle lives here as well, I thought I'd visit him and spend some time with my cousins beforehand.  Then Kyp notified me of your injuries, and I knew you'd want to talk with me."  He gave her a sidelong glance as they entered the hallway.  "And yes, I know I'm not officially supposed to know about them."

            "Good."  Jaina didn't want her memory loss to become public; not ever, if she could help it.  "My mother said you're a diplomat now."

            He groaned.  "Unfortunately, I was talked into becoming the liaison for the Chiss to the Alliance.  I got a little too good at it– they're not letting me retire."

            She snickered.  "That's the danger of entering politics."

            He slid his arm from hers to gently knock his fist against her shoulder.  "Watch it, Great One.  I've got diplomatic immunity."

            Yes, she believed she had been friends with this man.  His arm settled comfortably around her shoulders and she questioned him on safe topics as they made their way into the street and toward the botanical garden.  His family was doing well, and his uncle had invited her to dinner with them that night.  Yes, he was still a Colonel; no, he hadn't been home to Csilla for a few years.  It was polite conversation and somewhat stilted, and as Jag held the door open for her, Jaina asked him, "Are you always this formal?"

            To her surprise, he laughed.  "This is a lot better than I was," he informed her, pulling her down the path towards a secluded bench surrounded by greenery and a riot of brightly colored flowers.  "When you first met me, you said I was grim."

            "Grim."  Jaina considered this, and nodded.  "Yeah, I could see you as grim."

            His smile was easy, open.  "I was the quintessential Imperial pilot– Chiss pilot, at that– when you met me.  Unwilling to show emotion, only concerned with fulfilling the mission.  Then I got entangled with a bunch of Rebel Jedi pilots, and look at me now."  Then his smile faded and he gestured at the bench.  Jaina sat and looked up at him.  His eyes were concerned.  "Jaina, I just want you to know that I'm still your friend.  I'll be your friend no matter what."

            Jaina reached for the chain at her throat and pulled the small gold pendent.  "You gave me this when we broke up," she said.

            His smile returned, and he tugged an identical pendent out from under the collar of his flightsuit.  "We got them made together," he said.  "We wanted something to remind ourselves."

            "Of what?"

            He was nervous, she decided, as he clasped his hands before him.  "That regardless of everything else that had happened, we were still friends."  He let out his breath in a huff.  "Kyp said you had some questions."

            It was as clear an opening as she could ask for.  She shut her eyes briefly, then opened them.  "When did we start going together?"  It was the most basic question she could think of.

            Jag relaxed slightly.  "A little after Twin Suns was officially handed over to you."

            "And when did we break up?"

            The slight tension returned; he stiffened slightly.  "About two years after the war ended... three years ago or so."

            She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to ask him, but her compelling need to know the answer drove her.  "And we were lovers?"

            The tension tightened; he obviously wasn't looking forward to this.  "Precisely once.  It was why we decided we were better just friends."

            She stared at him, shocked.  "Why?" she managed at last.

            He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her.  "You called me Kyp," he said at last.

            "I– oh."  Color flooded her cheeks, but before she could say anything more, Jag continued speaking.

            "And I called you Tahiri."

            "_Oh_." She inhaled sharply, and looked down at her feet.  "I see," she said, and her voice sounded tinny.

            "Not our finest hour," Jag said stiffly.

            "No," she agreed instantly.  "Definitely not."  

            They remained where they were, Jaina sitting and Jag standing beside her, embarrassment painfully acute in the air around them, eyes looking anywhere but at each other.

            _I called him Kyp.  Sithspawn, I'm glad I can't remember this_. Jaina closed her eyes and fervently hoped her blush was receding. _Well, that explains why I never told Kyp why we broke up.  I'm not sure I want to know myself.  Sithspawn, I called him **Kyp**._ She glanced up at him, found him just as red as she was, and quickly looked down at her feet once more. _Emperor's black bones.  He doesn't look **that** much like Kyp..._

            A new thought struck her, and impossibly, she giggled.  Jag's head turned and he looked curiously at her.  Jaina tried to stop herself, and couldn't contain her laughter anymore.  "You called me Tahiri?" she finally managed.  "Jag, you at least look _roughly_ like Kyp.  Do I look _anything_ like Tahiri?"  She immediately covered her face with her hands to hide her wide grin.  "I'm sorry; I know it's not funny, but sweet stars, Jag, honestly!"

            To her amazement, he stared at her and then laughed with her.  "No," he told her when they had calmed, "it wasn't funny then, but it's absolutely hilarious now."

            Weak from laughing so hard, Jaina rested her head on his shoulder.  "At least now I understand why no one else really knows why we split up."

            "That's why we made these," Jag said, briefly touching hers.  "To remind ourselves that we'd never tell anyone else what complete fools we'd been."

            Jaina winced.  "I can't believe I called you Kyp.  I'm sorry, Jag.  That had to have been terrible."

            His mouth twitched.  "Oh, I was feeling rather embarrassed, but mostly because I had been just as callous and called you Tahiri.  We had a long talk that night."

            "I believe it," she said.  She shut her eyes.  "And then we went out and made these, and just sort of split apart?"

            "Basically."  Jag's arm relaxed around her.  "And people still wonder why."

            "Kyp's jealous," Jaina said without thinking. 

            "Kyp's lucky," Jag countered.  "And he doesn't need to be.  You should have told him that much, at least."

            "Why didn't I?"

            "Jaina!"  He sounded exasperated.  "How should I know?"

            "Well," she said, sitting back up straighter and looking at him.  "I guess our, um, finest hour changed _something_, because Kyp and I wound up together a few months later.  How'd that happen?"

            "Oh," Jag said, and his expression cleared.  "I basically talked you into that."

            "Explain," Jaina demanded pertly, and crossed her arms.

            He grinned and reached out to tweak her nose.  "Same Jaina," he said.  "Demanding all us mere mortals follow her every wish.  Calm down, I'm explaining."  He took a breath and let it out before he continued.  "I managed to get it through your thick skull– which you inherited from your father, by the way– that Durron would have to be an idiot not to love you.  So you, being your usual tricky self, managed to wring a confession of attraction from our rogue Jedi, and things went from there."

            "'A confession of attraction'?" Jaina repeated incredulously.  "Never mind; I'll ask Kyp.  He at least speaks standard Basic."  But she was smiling as she returned her head to his shoulder.  "So what happened with you and Tahiri?"

            She could feel him tense.  "Nothing," he said curtly.  "She's been away."

            Her smile spread.  "When I saw you today, I thought that one word I wouldn't be able to apply to you was 'coward'," she said.  "You haven't talked to her beyond basic 'hello, how are you?', have you?"

            She could feel his glare through the top of her head.  "You're not supposed to remember anything," he complained.

            "That's not remembering, that's obvious," Jaina informed him.  "Do I have to nag you into seducing her or what?"

            Jag chuckled.  "I'm glad you're the same person inside, Jaina.  Still friends?"

            "Still friends," Jaina agreed.  One mystery had been complete cleared away, and the answer to it was shedding light on others.  She had a lot to think about– but for the first time, she felt like she actually had answers now.  "Always."


	10. Chapter 10

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 10 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

They spent the rest of the morning– what little was left of it– in the botanicals, just talking.  Jagged reintroduced her to a small Ithorian shop a few blocks away from the hanger and they had eaten lunch, and then he had taken her through the Historical Museum, which was a good two hours' flight away.  They had spent the rest of the afternoon going through the Museum, talking and laughing and simply walking together silently.  The flight back to the neighborhood that Jaina recognized was spent with in quiet conversation: memories, events, small private jokes.  Jaina cherished each tiny bit of knowledge about her past, stored it up in her mind to examine minutely later, when she had the leisure time.

            They'd gone straight from the Museum to the Antilles household, where they ate an informal dinner filled with laughter and friendly banter.  It was something of a shock to see Wedge and Iella look so worn, so old; it was a bigger shock to realize that they treated her as a contemporary, an equal, rather than as the daughter of old friends.  She had always been on friendly terms with their daughters– she even had kept track of them when all hell had broken loose at her uncle's wedding all those years ago– but being on friendly terms with two people she viewed as role models was rather disconcerting.

            It had been strange to realize that she addressed Wedge Antilles as simply Wedge, not the Uncle Wedge of her childhood or the General Antilles of her youth.  For the first time, he looked old, worn, and his fingers were gnarled and slightly swollen with arthritis.  Wedge Antilles had been a legend to Jaina long before he had been a friend, and to see the legend somehow diminished with age hurt.

            But she had kept her opinion to herself, and dinner was lively and a bit rambunctious.  Syal and Myri were grown up, or nearly, and between teasing their cousin and questioning Jaina, the meal went by quickly.

            Though most of the questions directed to her involved Kyp in some way, Jaina managed to get through the evening without more than two or three awkward, panicky moments of sheer blankness.  Wedge and Iella hadn't said anything about her memory loss, but it was plain that they knew of it.  Syal and Myri, on the other hand, were vivacious and bubbly and all too oblivious to Jaina's confusion at times.  She didn't mind– for all the military had asked her to keep quiet about her amnesia, an alarming amount of people seemed to know about it.

            Iella made her daughters clear away the dishes, and then looked over at Jaina just as she stifled a yawn.

            "I'm sorry," Jaina apologized immediately.  

            "No, no," Iella said, waving her hand and leaning back in her chair.  Her hand dropped and was covered by Wedge's.  "You look exhausted.  Long day?"

            "No," Jaina said, and smiled at Jag.  "That's not it.  I had trouble falling asleep last night."  She wasn't going to tell them that she'd tossed and turned fitfully, cursing herself for returning Kyp's cape.  The fact that she'd need a security blanket– of any sort– was not one she wished to advertised.

            Wedge glanced at the chrono on the wall.  "It's getting late.  Or early, whichever you want to call it.  Maybe you should head off and get some sleep.  Tomorrow– today, I guess– is going to be busy."

            She raised an eyebrow.  "Was I supposed to know that?"

            "No, not really, but I figured you were allowed a bit of warning.  Jag, why don't you walk Jaina back?"

            Jaina stood and put a hand on Jag's shoulder to keep him from rising.  "No, I'll be fine on my own," she said.  "It's only a few minutes away, and I want to think."

            Jag looked as though he'd like to argue, but didn't.  "All right.  You're sure you'll be fine?"

            She smiled at him as his cousins re-entered the room.  "I've got my lightsaber and my commlink.  If one doesn't work, I'll use the other."

            "What's that mean?" Syal asked.

            "If someone decides they want to argue with me, I'll use my lightsaber to persuade them otherwise," Jaina teased.  "And if that doesn't work, I'll use the commlink to call for help." _And_, she added silently_, if no one answers when I comm them for the code, I'll use the lightsaber to open the damn door.  It's only eight numbers; I should be able to remember the vaping code._

            "Most people would call for help first and use the lightsaber as a backup," Iella pointed out.

            Jaina merely stretched her smile into a grin.  "How long was I a Rogue?" she asked, and Wedge chuckled.

            "Point, good point.  It was nice talking with you, Great One.  Have a safe walk back."

             A few minutes of goodbyes later, and Jaina was once more on her own.  She shivered and pulled her flight jacket around her tighter, fastening it up and stuffing her hands into the pockets.  She had a lot to think on, and the night was chilly and clear.  It was a good night to think and walk.

            Jagged somehow had made everything fall into place.  Where before, her thoughts had been muddled up into a few confused groups, now she could lay them out in an orderly fashion and examine them.  He'd given her answers she'd desperately needed.

            She had been happy.  That was foremost among her thoughts.  Between Twin Suns, Kyp, family, friends, piloting, being a Jedi... somehow, with all of that in her life, she'd been happy.

            She had been good.  She'd been a good person and a good friend; a good pilot and a good fighter; a good Jedi and a good leader.  Though she'd failed and fallen to the Dark Side, she'd fought her way back to the light– with Kyp's help, but she still brought herself out– and she'd turned out to be a good person.  If the Jaina of ten years ago met the Jaina of, she supposed, a month ago, the past Jaina would be proud of the future Jaina.  Through everything, she'd survived with her sense of humor and sense of optimism intact.  Even if both had been bruised and nearly destroyed by life earlier, they still existed.

            She had been content.  That was easy to believe.  Just the holos her father had shown her had convinced her of that.  In nearly every picture, she'd been smiling or laughing or simply happy.

            And she had loved Kyp Durron.  Oddly enough, Jagged had been the one who convinced her of that the most, and although she would have preferred less embarrassing proof, she had proof nonetheless.  If she had called Jagged Kyp– she winced– then that meant that she had loved Kyp even then, when she was with Jag. 

            That little tidbit of knowledge seemed to be making everything else fall into place.  She had loved Kyp.  Kyp had loved her.  She didn't question either of those statements; both were obvious and pure facts.  Kyp still loved her.  She barely hesitated over that.  No, he did.  He'd said so, hadn't he?

            There was only one question of any importance left for Jaina to figure out.

            Did she still love him?

            She paused in front of the building, looked up at the darkened windows of her family's home.  She enjoyed being with him, she admitted.  She missed him when he wasn't with her.  He seemed to permeate her brain.

            And she wouldn't be able to get a good night's sleep if she didn't have something of his nearby.

            She glared up at the building, saw that her brother's light was still on.  She could enter, take the lift up, and use her commlink to ask him to open the door and let her in– no lightsaber necessary, which was rather a shame, as she was beginning to seriously hate that door.  She'd enter her room, change into her sleepclothes, and spend all night tossing and turning and cursing herself for giving Kyp back his cape.

            Jaina hesitated, then abruptly turned her back on the building.  She needed to talk with Kyp at any rate.  Hopefully he wouldn't think her request for something of his an odd one.  She blushed.  Hopefully he wouldn't ask her why she wanted it.

            A little under fifteen minutes later, Jaina took a deep breath and stepped into the building before her.  Kyp had brought her here once, that first day out of the medcenter.  Little things hovered at the back of her mind as she rode the lift up to the correct floor.  She frowned, concentrating on them, as she walked down the dimly lit hall.

            It was almost as though she remembered this.  Jaina continued toward the door, paused before it, and lifted her hand, still desperately reaching out for the memories that made this hall, this door, this man real to her.

            The door cycled open with a slight hiss that brought Jaina out of her thoughts.  She steeled herself to face Kyp and looked up, but no one stood in the doorway.  Beyond it, the rooms were dark and motionless.

            Jaina slowly brought her gaze down to her hand, which rested still on the keypad.  She lifted it and stared at the betraying fingers, which appeared so normal to her eyes.  Had she just entered the code?  It was the only explanation as to why the door opened, and yet...  She didn't know the code.  Did she?

            She cast her mind about for doorcodes, and all she could come up with was the last one she remembered for the family rooms on Coruscant and the one she'd programmed for her door at the Academy, neither of which, she was sure, would have done her any good here.  She must have entered the code; maybe her fingers remembered the numbers even though her mind didn't.

            Why couldn't they have remembered the numbers to her _family's_ door?

            Because that hadn't been home, Jaina realized, stepping into the silent room and quietly shutting the door behind her.  This had been her home.

            She stood in silence for a long moment, taking in the dim rooms: the bare walls, the simple couch, the desk pushed up against the wall and the comm station next to it.  This would have been where she had worked, at the plain desk.  She ran her hand over the empty surface, pleased by the smooth, cool feel.  Jaina turned to face the room, barely noticing that she had removed her jacket and draped it over the desk chair.  This would be the couch where she would flop onto when she was exhausted, where she would curl up to watch holovids after a long day when she didn't want to think anymore.  She sat on it, bounced experimentally, and slid off her boots without really thinking about it.  She nearly remembered this– memories hovered so close that she could nearly touch them.

            She stood, trailed her hand over the back of the couch, and still moving quietly, stepped through the arch into another room.  This would be where she would fix herself midnight snacks, she told herself, standing in the center of the small kitchen.  She moved to the table; there were four chairs, but two of them were pushed against the wall.  This would be where she would eat her meals, where she and Kyp would have had discussions or traded insults over dinner.  Jaina glanced at the counter that ran along the opposite side of the wall.  She could nearly see Kyp leaning against it, watching her rummage through a cabinet for something high-protein to eat to keep her going for the next few late-night reports.  She blinked, and the ghostly images faded.

            She turned and moved out of the room, back past the couch and through the other archway.

            There were two dressers scrunched up against the wall, a much smaller desk with a small mirror above it, and two smaller archways that she somehow knew led to a 'fresher and a closet.  But those were noted absently– what caught her attention was the bed in the center of the room.  Or rather, the bed's occupant.

            Kyp was asleep, lying on the left side of the bed, breathing even and slow.  Jaina let out a deep breath, and stood in the archway and simply looked at him.  He slept soundly– either he didn't have the awareness of his surroundings that a Jedi Master should, or he was so used to her slipping in at all hours of the night that her presence no longer startled him.

            Probably the second, she decided.

            This would have been where they'd slept together, woken together, dressed and prepared to face the day together.  Jaina sat down on the bed– the right side had been hers, she was sure of it– still keeping her eyes fixed on Kyp's sleeping face.  Hesitantly she reached out to touch his face, to smooth at the wrinkles that clustered around his eyes, to touch the silky hair falling over his skin.  Kyp barely shifted.  Underneath closed lids, his eyes moved.

            Jaina sat for a long minute, debating with herself.  He was asleep.  It would be easy enough to pick something of his and steal away with it.  He didn't need to know that she slept uneasily without him; it would be rather embarrassing to explain, anyways.  She stood to move toward the closet.

            A shudder ran through him, and he rolled onto his side, one hand reaching out toward her side of the bed.  It brushed up against sheets, found nothing to touch.  He searched for a minute longer in sleep, then sighed and stopped moving, lying still and somehow defeated on his side of the bed.

            Jaina echoed his sigh.  It wasn't really fair, she told herself, lowering herself and slipping under the covers next to him.  Neither of them would get any sleep at the rate they were going.  She'd wait until he quieted and was deeply asleep.  It was only fair.  She'd sleep soundly if she had something of his; she might as well wait until he was peaceful before stealing away.

            Though it was rather awkward, lying next to him, not really knowing what she should be doing.  He seemed to be rather completely asleep, anyways– Jaina shifted her weight, preparing to sit up.

            His hand reached over, touched her stomach and slid across it to her hip.  Jaina froze.  The hand firmed, tugged her closer, and in seconds Jaina found herself lying on her side, back pressed up against Kyp's front, his arm heavy and possessive around her.  He gave a long sigh, and tension seemed to leave his body.

            Jaina's own release of breath was a bit shaky.  Kyp was warm and heavy behind her; his arm circled her waist, and his hand rested loosely on her stomach.  She felt, somehow, very small and female.

            And comfortable.  This was familiar; this was right.

            She'd wait just a moment for him to slip into deep sleep.  Jaina let her eyes drift shut.  She'd wait just a little longer.  Just a few more minutes, then she'd slip out of his arms and back outside into the cold night air.

            She leaned her head back against his shoulder.

            Just a few more minutes.

            Her breathing evened; she was asleep all too quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 11 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1            Half-awake, Kyp bent his head, felt his chin brush something soft, and smiled.  Jaina.  She was cradled against him, her head tucked beneath his.  No matter where they were when they fell asleep, when they woke, they always were in the same position.  This night was no different; she had drifted into her habitual place in his arms.

            He angled his head differently and lightly kissed the top of her head, all without opening his eyes.  He'd missed this.  She had been gone for days.

            The thought drove the last vestiges of sleep from his mind.  Kyp's eyes flew open.  He started to sit up, and the woman he held protested.

            "No," she murmured, and snuggled closer.  "'S too early."

            He froze, and carefully eased himself back down.  Jaina sighed contentedly, a small smile on her face, and rubbed her head against his bare chest once more before sinking deeper into sleep.  His movements hadn't roused her completely; before he could say a word, she was wholly asleep again.

            Kyp lay silently, not quite sure he could trust what his senses were telling him.  He was half-convinced he was still asleep, but Jaina was a soft, warm weight across his chest.  His arms had fallen around her with the randomness of sleep; slowly, taking care not to wake her, Kyp repositioned his arms around her.  When he was finally truly holding her, he brushed a hand down through the silky length of her hair and paused.

            Jaina was in his bed.

            He wasn't about to complain about it, but it did make him wonder.  She still wore the simple tunic and pants from the day before, so she had yet to reach her home from whatever she and Jag had been up to.  He quickly turned his mind away from that.  She was here, wasn't she?  He was the one holding her, not Jag.  On reflex, his arms tightened around her.  She shifted in his grip, but her murmur wasn't of complaint but of satisfaction.

            She hadn't been back to her parents' home yet.  It was morning- early morning, yes, but morning all the same.  Jacen was an early riser; her absence had probably already been noted.  Her family would be worrying.  He should go to the comm and let them know that she was safe.

            But later.  Much later.  Kyp shut his eyes briefly.  She had come back.  She might be leaving again as soon as she woke, but she had come back to him, if only for one night.  He bent his head and kissed her forehead, and brought a hand up to touch her cheek.  Her skin was soft, smooth as silk, and slightly flushed with sleep.  He always feared that his rough hands would somehow catch against her skin and mar it, but once- nearly a year ago, when he'd voiced his fear- she'd simply laughed, and told him, her voice husky and teasing, that she _liked_ having his rough hands on her.  Apparently she still did; she turned her face into his hand, tried to follow his fingers as they left her face.

            She had come back.  

            Why?  Kyp didn't want to think about it, but he forced himself to do so.  She'd met with Jag the day before, and yet she had come back.  She had said she was considering continuing things with him- but that had been before she had spoken with Jagged.

            Had she decided, after spending her time with Fel, that she needed to break things off?  She'd come here, late at night- Fel knew the doorcode and could have let her in- and had decided to wait for him to wake so he could talk with her.  She'd been so tired that she'd fallen asleep before she could accomplish what she'd came to do; habit took over and did the rest.  She'd never intended to fall asleep and wake up in his arms.

            Likely, Kyp told himself.  Probable.  It was the most reasonable explanation.

            But part of his mind scoffed at himself. _Reasonable_, it sneered_. Logical.  When has Jaina **ever** been reasonable?_ He tried to ignore that little voice, but it whispered words and reasons that he longed to hear, and he could not banish it.

            _She came here because she loves me.  She came back to me because she wants to be with **me**, and not Jag.  Jag said something to her yesterday and she remembered everything, and she came back home by herself because she wanted to see me.  But she didn't wake me up, and she fell asleep waiting for me.  And when she wakes up and finds me here, she'll kiss me and tell me she loves me._

            Kyp took a deep, tight breath.  Fantasy.  He recognized his thoughts for what they were.  Jaina wasn't here because she loved him.  He was an old man- nearly old enough to be her father- and a haunted one.  His past was more darkness than light.  He pulled her down; he wasn't good enough for her.  It had been a miracle that she loved him in the first place.

            He had always believed in miracles.  From what little he remembered about his parents, his brother, he knew they had been the ones to first tell him about miracles. _Everyone gets a miracle_, he remembered being told as a boy. _Everyone.  No matter what you do, you still get a miracle.  That's the way things work._ In his memory, the words came from his brother, a boy barely bigger than himself, when they were both children waiting to fall asleep at night.  They'd played games, guessing what their miracle would be.

            He'd thought that living through the Imperial raid was his miracle.  He'd been certain of it.  Vima da Boda, that crone who had first told him of the Force in the mines of Kessel, had told him otherwise.  Yes, it had been a gift, but it hadn't been his miracle.  His miracle was still years away.  She'd said that when he'd first arrived on Kessel, alone and terrified and confused.  

            When, years later, Han Solo and Chewbacca had proved to be his ticket out of the mines and into the freedom of the galaxy, he'd thought that his first mentor had foreseen correctly, that his miracle had finally arrived.  Then he'd thought that the miracle was that Luke Skywalker would teach him the ways of the Force.

            But only months later, he'd thought that his miracle was being allowed to return to the Academy, being allowed to live and work towards doing something right with his life.  He'd settled that as being his miracle; for most of his adult life, he'd assumed that it was the one miracle he'd been allowed.  Jaina had come into his life, intersecting with him briefly a few times: Lando's Folly, where he finally realized that she was growing up, and then at Sernpidal, where he finally realized who she- and he- had become.  He'd regretted using her, and that regret turned to guilt and sorrow and had stuck in his mind, waving her face like a flag into his mind whenever it was empty.

            Then he'd seen her at Hapes, lost and angry and terrified, and he'd realized that he couldn't allow himself to stand aloof and do nothing.  He owed it to her to help her.  Somehow, they'd both gotten through those tumultuous times alive- though, he admitted wryly, they both had scars from them- and somehow, just as improbably, he'd fallen in love with her.

            But he did nothing about it.  He had watched her run toward Jagged Fel and had smiled and tried to feel nothing.  He'd used up his one miracle.  There was nothing left for him to do; he didn't stand a chance against Fel.  

            But somehow, he had won her.  Somehow being still alive and accepted after his fall into darkness wasn't his miracle.  Jaina was his miracle.  Even though he had lost her, he still firmly believed that.  No matter what happened, Jaina had been his miracle.  The two years with her could never been taken away from him.

            He'd never been certain about the other miracles.  Things always had cropped up to question his belief in whether they were his single, destined miracle: an old witch's words, a semi-retired smuggler's brother-in-law, a nagging sense of unfullfillment.  With Jaina there had been none of those.  She had been his miracle.

            And he didn't have another to win her back with.

            But she had come back.

            _She loves you_, that insistent voice in his heart sang out. _She came back because she loves you_.

            He couldn't shut out the voice.  It awoke feelings that he had been trying to repress and kill: hope, yearning, need.  To distance himself, Kyp opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and loosened his grip.  It took effort to slip away from Jaina, to gently position her against the pillows and blankets so she wouldn't awaken as he left the bed.  But he managed.

            Kyp only went so far as the chair on the other side of the bed, where he quickly sat and turned his eyes back to her.  

            Jaina was no longer sleeping peacefully.  Her movements were fitful, searching; a small frown had settled into lines on her forehead.  She tossed and turned for a few minutes, twisting the covers about her, and finally, face still unhappy, settled into the space he had occupied brief minutes earlier and resumed her deeper sleep.

            _And that's how it's going to turn out_, Kyp told himself sternly. _She might even miss me for a bit and flounder around, but she'll settle down and be all right again._ He took a deep, shaky breath and let it out quickly. _And I'll be sitting in the chair beside her watching over her the rest of her life.  Whether she knows it or not._

            He knew that he should go into the next room and send a comm message over to Jacen or Han so that they wouldn't worry.  But he couldn't bring himself to move, nor could he seem to tear his eyes away from the woman asleep in his bed.

            Just a little while longer.  Then he would put a call through to Han.  But if this was the last time he'd get to watch Jaina sleep, then he could put off the call. 

            Just for a few more minutes.

            But nearly an hour later, when Jaina's restless motions finally tore her from sleep, he'd yet to move toward the comm.

            Jaina woke quickly and completely, as she always did.  She blinked, confused, and then sat up.

            "You're awake," Kyp said softly.  It seemed best to stick with easy observations.

            "Oh.  Yes.  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."  Kyp's heart fell.  She lifted embarrassed brown eyes to his.  "I, um, came over after I left Wedge's house.  Can we talk?"

            He shut his eyes briefly, but then opened them and stood.  "Yeah.  Come on, I'll make us some caf."

            She slid out of bed with boneless grace, and trailed after him into the small kitchen.  In too short a time, they each had their hot cup of caf sitting ignored before them.

            Kyp mentally sighed, and started the conversation.  "You haven't been home yet," he said.  "Your parents are probably worried."

            "Oh.  Um.  Yes."  She took a careful sip of her caf, and then decisively set her mug down.  "So I, um, talked with Jagged yesterday."

            She'd never called him Jagged before; it had always been Jag.  Kyp forced himself not to read too much into it.  He leaned back in his seat.  "And how did that go?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his tone neutral, mentally tightening his shields so that she couldn't pick up on his inner turmoil through the Force.

            Jaina let out a sigh.  "Well.  Really well, actually."  But her hands were twisting nervously around her cup.  "We went to a museum and had dinner with Wedge and Iella.  I was going to go straight back to my parents' rooms afterwards, but, um, I wanted to talk to you first."  She was beginning to flush now.  Was she embarrassed?  "So I came up here and I guess I fell asleep before we could talk."

            It didn't make sense, and Kyp said so.  "How'd you get in?" he asked.  "I never told you the code."

            Jaina hadn't met his eyes yet, but now she did, very briefly.  "I guess I remembered the code."  Her gaze dropped back down to her caf.  "I don't know.  I was thinking and just put my hand up and next thing I know, the door opened."

            "So you came over to talk to me," Kyp prompted, wondering why he was making it easier for her to torture him.

            "Yes."  She finally seemed to notice how her hands betrayed her nervousness, so she removed them from the warmth of her cup and folded them in her lap.  "Jag said some things that helped me figure things out.  I know I told you I'd give think about things for a week, but I think I know my decision already."

            He shut his eyes.  "You think you know, or you know?"

            "I'm as sure as I'll ever get," she said softly.  "Do you want me to wait the full week before I tell you, or can I tell you now?"

            It was tempting, so tempting, to make her wait the week.  He'd have another few days knowing he hadn't completely lost her, another few days when others would look at her hand and see his ring and know that she was out of their reach.  But that wouldn't be fair- not to her, and not to him.  It would be easiest if he got it over with.

            So he opened his eyes.  "You can tell me now," he said, and waited for the words that would break his heart.

            Jaina finally lifted her nervous eyes up to his.  "I think I'm still in love with you," she admitted.

            Kyp felt his heart lurch, and hope flared so intensely that it nearly hurt.  "Jaina-" he began, mouth dry, but something in her eyes stopped him from continuing.

            "I don't know if it's fair to either of us, but that's what I've come up with," she said, and dropped her eyes away from his once more.  "And I've thought a lot about it over the past couple of days.  I enjoy spending time with you.  I miss you when I'm not with you.  And I can't sleep well without you."  Her blush was spreading.  "I spend too much time thinking about you and wondering what it would be like to kiss you.  I wonder how we spent out time before.  I keep trying to remember things about us.  About you."

            She wasn't leaving him.  The thought seemed to be eternally circling his head.  She was staying with him.

            "So you still want to marry me?" he asked carefully, trying to keep himself under control.

            Jaina nodded.

            Kyp finally looked down at the table, away from her.  He wasn't going to lose her.  She was staying with him.  It felt like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders.  "Are you sure?" he made himself ask.

            "Kyp!"  She sounded exasperated.  "What do you want me to say?  No, I'm not sure, and now that you've made me think about it again, I'm going to go off and marry Jag?"

            "It's what I'd expect you to say," he muttered, and winced.  He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

            The legs of her chair scraped against the smooth floor, and he looked up as she came to stand beside him.  "Stand up," she ordered.

            Kyp stared up at her.  "What?" he asked.

            She heaved a sigh of impatience, took his hands in hers, and tugged him out of his chair.  "Stand up.  And look at me."

            He didn't really have a choice; she hadn't released his hands.  "Now what, Goddess?" he asked wryly.  His mood was already lifting, he realized.  How could she make his mood change so abruptly from despair to amusement?

            Jaina tilted her chin up; he recognized it as her stubborn side showing its face.  "You are going to listen to me and pay attention," she said.  

            "Yes, Goddess," he said sarcastically, unable to keep his smile was spreading.  He took a step closer to her; she didn't flinch.

            "Stop worrying about Jag," she said flatly.  "I'm not telling you why we broke up, but part of it was because he wouldn't marry me even if I asked him.  And another part of it is that I was in love with _you_ and not him.  Even then.  Can I get that through your thick head?"

            Relief sang through him and made him giddy.  He grinned down at her.  "So you've always loved me?"

            "Didn't I just say that?" she asked, thoroughly exasperated.

            "Who's Jag in love with?"  He took another step closer, so that there was barely any space between them.

            "That'd be telling."  He saw her swallow.  "So are you going to stop thinking Jag's a problem now?"

            "Mm-hm," he agreed lazily, enjoying how nervous she was becoming.  He hadn't had the pleasure of making Jaina nervous in nearly a year- that was the one disadvantage to the familiarity.  "Jag is no longer anywhere _near_ what I'm thinking about now."

            "Oh.  Good."  Her gaze flickered to his bare chest, then swiftly back up to his face.  She tried to release his hands; he didn't let her.  "So, um, I should probably let my parents know where I am."

            "Yeah," Kyp agreed, tugging her closer until he could wrap his arms around her and pull her against his skin.  "But first you're going to kiss me."

            Her voice was a very un-Jaina-like squeak.  "I am?"

            "Yeah," he told her, still smiling.  "You are.  You said you'd wondered what it would be like.  Here's your chance."

            At that, her lips quirked upwards in a motion that strongly reminded Kyp of Leia.  "You're enjoying this."

            "Damn right I am.  You're going to marry me, so you better get used to it."  He watched her hesitate, and spoke again.  "You're stalling."

            "So?" she snapped back.  "I don't remember any of this, all right?  I'm allowed to be nervous."

            Jaina nervous.  He chuckled at the idea.  "That'll be the day."

            She gave a purely feminine growl of annoyance, and as he'd hoped, he'd teased her just enough to make her eyes kindle with fire.  "You're a bit too please with yourself," she said, trying to slip away from him.

            He merely tightened his hold.  "I think I'm allowed to be, under the circumstances," he told her.  "You're going to marry me.  The first time you agreed, I didn't let you out of my sight for a day and a half."

            "Don't think that's going to happen again this time," she warned.

            "You're stalling again," he taunted, trying to rile her up.  "Scared of me?"

            "No," she said, and he could tell she was lying.  He should be a bit gentler on her, he realized in some dim corner of his mind, but he was enjoying himself a bit too much.  She was his still.  She was staying.  "I'm not afraid of you."

            "If you want to marry me, you'd better be willing to _at least_ kiss me," Kyp told her.  He winked down at her blushing face.  "You've done worse, you realize."

            "I know!" she bit out, and went even redder.  "You're not making this any easier."

            "You like impossible things, don't you?"  Her eyes lit with wrath, and he just grinned.  "Come on, Goddess.  You've kissed me before."

            "Not in recent memory," she gritted, but he could tell she was weakening.  Her arms had slipped around his waist; she was no longer stiff, but rather relaxed against him.

            He could barely keep from laughing.  "One kiss," he repeated, and his voice softened.  "I kissed you the other night.  Your turn.  Just one kiss."

            She shut her eyes and exhaled, then opened her eyes and looked back up at him.

            "One kiss," she agreed, and Kyp felt her hands tug on his shirt as she pulled herself up to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.

            Her lips were soft, hesitant, and questioning- Kyp trailed his hand up her back to the back of her head and kept it cradled there.  After a panicked second, Jaina relaxed completely, lingering in the kiss, savoring him as though she was returning home.  He was more than willing to do the same.

            How long they paused in the kiss he wasn't sure, but Jaina slowly released him and settled back down onto the balls of her feet.  Or rather, tried to; Kyp lowered her until her feet were completely on the floor.  Jaina ran her tongue over her top lip.  "Um," she said.

            "Yeah," Kyp agreed, feeling a bit lightheaded himself.  "Maybe two kisses?"

            "Yeah," Jaina said, still a bit dazed.  She lifted her head back to his.  "I could maybe do two."


	12. Chapter 12

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 12 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Gavin leaned back in his seat and waited for Jaina's reaction.

            She settled back in her chair herself, and the expectant look on her face faded into a small frown.  "Why does that vaguely annoy me?" she asked, glancing at the man who sat beside her.

            Kyp Durron didn't look happy either.  "Because we've postponed the wedding three times now," he growled.  "But in this case, I think it's necessary.  Again."

            Sympathizing with Kyp Durron was not something that Gavin had expected to do in his life.  But he couldn't help it: the man might have been trouble for most of his life, but he had probably been through just as much pain as he had caused others.  Adding this to everything wasn't quite fair.

            "I'm not sure if I'm happy with Harrar's suggestion myself," he admitted, "but we don't have many more options.  He's confirmed that there is a splinter group among the Yuuzhan Vong that believe you are a living, breathing affront to their goddess, and he thinks that this would be the best way to keep you safe.  They've tried to kill you once; Harrar suspects they will try again, and for once, I completely agree."

            He leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk.  "You can follow Harrar's suggestion and go to Sekot where you, he assures me, will be safest, or I'll assign you a twenty-four-hour guard here and keep you grounded until we're sure it's safe for you to fly again.  Either way you're a target, and either way you'll be protected.  It's your choice."

            Jaina said nothing, but she again glanced at Durron.  Their eyes met and held for a long moment.  Gavin tried not to shiver; he was sure there was some communication between the two, and while he understood that they might want privacy, he didn't like the- the- he searched for a word- the [i]spookiness[/i] of the whole deal.

            The two Jedi finally broke eye contact; Jaina's brown eyes focused on him.  "Kyp comes with me," she said clearly.

            Gavin felt a smile pulling at his lips.  "I don't think we could stop him," he said.  "Sekot, then?  Are you sure?"

            Jaina nodded.  "Yes, sir."

            "All right."  He glanced at Kyp, who didn't voice any objections, then back to Jaina.  "Who else besides your family knows you've had memory loss?"

            "That I know of, sir, Tekli, Wedge and Iella, and Jagged Fel.  That I know of."

            Gavin frowned.  "I hadn't wanted to lose Fel, but I suppose it's for a good cause.  He'll be accompanying the two of you to Sekot- I want to send someone who knows the truth about you, Sticks," he explained, and her confusion cleared.  "That way you'll have someone else there who can point things out things you've forgotten.  Not that I don't trust you, Master Durron," he added hastily.

            Kyp's smile was tight and somehow feral.  "Two that remember might notice something that one would miss," was all he said, but Gavin nodded, satisfied.  Kyp at least understood that Jag was along as a bodyguard as much as a friend.  The message was relayed; Jaina would be kept safe by two of her closest friends.

            "Good," the general said, and stood.  "Tahiri sent coordinates.  It's an ten-day trip to Csilla, which is where you'll jump from.  You'll be leaving on the freighter _Nissia_ in eight hours; Master Durron, your aid will be required in getting your fighter aboard.  I'll notify Colonel Fel of his new assignment.  Questions?"

            "No, sir, thank you, sir."  Jaina stood, returned his salute just as sharply as she always had, and turned to leave.

            "Jaina," he called after her; she paused and looked back.  "May the Force be with you," he said quietly.

            "Thank you, General," she said, and the first trace he'd seen of a smile graced her face. She stepped out into the hall and Gavin heard Griggs immediately begin to torment her.

            Durron paused in the doorway and, just as Gavin resumed his seat, spoke.  "I'm not going to let anything happen to her."  His eyes were intense and his voice firm.

            "Good," Gavin said, forcing himself to meet the burning eyes evenly.  "She's not out of the sandstorm yet."

            Durron merely nodded, and shut the door behind him- just as Jaina's light laughter, in response to something witty Griggs had said, no doubt, floated through.  The laughter eased Gavin's mind considerably, even as he keyed his comm and spoke with the _Nissia_'s crew.  She had seemed more alive today, more back to the Jaina Solo that he remembered.  She was slowly regaining her feet.

            He only hoped that they wouldn't be cut out from under her by another attack.

-

            Jaina hadn't felt optimistic since she had first awakened in the medical center- had it really only been four days ago?  She thought back.  Yes, today would be her fifth day awake.  It seemed odd to think that she had been out of bacta less than a week, that she had just started her fifth day of amnesia.

            So much had happened- changed- within such a short amount of time.

            "I should see Tekli before we leave," she said aloud.

            Kyp, walking beside her, nodded.  "That's a good idea.  We'll see her after I put Stubborn away."

            "No," she decided.  "I'll see her while you're putting Stubborn away."  And at his look, "I'm perfectly able to hire a hovercar to take me to the medical wing."

            "I don't like the idea of you going off on your own."

            She rolled her eyes.  "You people tell me I'm twenty-six, then treat me like I'm ten.  Make up your minds."

            As she'd hope, Kyp laughed.  She enjoyed the sound, just as she enjoyed the arm he slung around her shoulders as they entered their building.  "I remember you when you were ten.  I think I like you better at twenty-six."

            She made a face up at him.

            "Although, come to think of it, at ten you had a bit more respect for your elders."

            At that, she giggled.  "Should I find you a cane, old one?" she teased as they stepped into the lift.

            The lift doors shut and her mirth died as his mouth came down, hard and hungry, on hers.  Kyp released her as the doors swooshed open onto their floor.  "I don't think I'm senile quite yet," he informed her.

            "No," she agreed shakily.  "Not quite yet."  Her hand touched her mouth unconsciously, and the Twi'lek who had been waiting for the lift tittered.

            "Still arguing," he said, tossing one lekku over his shoulder.  "I suppose now you'll tell me that you fight only so you can make up afterwards."

            Kyp's grin was unrepentant.  "It makes life interesting," he called over his shoulder.  The lift doors slid shut on the Twi'lek's chuckle.

            "Who was that?" Jaina asked as they made their way down the hall.

            "Merrig," Kyp said, and pointed to his door.  "He's a chef at the _Golden Star_.  That's where we usually meet up when we're too tired to cook."  He entered the code, then paused.  "I should have made you try to get the code."

            Jaina shook her head.  "Probably wouldn't have worked when I thought about it."

            "True enough."  And he bent and kissed her again, this time gently.  When he pulled away, he looked down at her for a long minute, then said simply, "Thank you."

            At that moment, it was easy to see why she had loved him; even easier to know that she still loved him.  "I love you," she told him softly, and was gratified to see his green eyes darken and his sharp features soften a bit with pleasure.  He didn't kiss her again, but rather pulled her tight against him.  Jaina gave a little sigh of happiness and shut her eyes.  

            "You're never getting rid of me, you know," he said after a minute.

            A rush of warmth and gladness, centered somewhere around her heart, began to spread.  Jaina's smile grew- "You've said that before, haven't you?" she asked, suddenly as sure of that as of anything else she knew.  "I know you've said that before, when we were standing like this."

            "Yeah," Kyp said, and his voice seemed a bit hoarse.  "I have."

            The memory hung so close before her she felt that one little breath of wind could have blown it into her mind.  "You've said that lots of times," she managed, concentrating on the little niggling bits of knowledge that taunted her with their nearness.

            "Yeah," Kyp confirmed, and now she was sure that his voice was tight.  

            She sought after the shimmering memory with all her strength, but as suddenly as it had sparkled to life, it faded away into nothing.  Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she tried to blink them away.  "It's gone," she said, defeated.  "It was there- I was so close to it-"

            "Sh," Kyp soothed her, hands rubbing circles on her back as she fought to hide her tears.  After a pause, when she had lost that hitch in her breathing, he said, "I'd tell you that probably once a day.  Whenever I went off somewhere without you, I'd tell you that before I'd leave.  And sometimes whenever I couldn't believe you were here with me and had agreed to marry me, I'd say that."

            It wasn't quite the same, him telling her why she felt the words were important.  It wasn't the same as remembering why they meant something to her on her own.  But still, "Is it a promise?" she asked quietly.

            His hands stilled on her back.  "It's a promise," he said.  "You're never getting rid of me."

            She tried to recapture the joy, the carefree happiness, the optimism.  Dizzying relief swept through her.  "Good," she said, and relaxed against him before she realized she had been tense.  

            Kyp's arms tightened slightly, and then she felt his lips press against her hair.  They stood together for a long moment, content to simply hold each other.  The feel of Kyp pressed against her, of having his arms around her and her hands locked around his waist- it was both terrifyingly new and comfortingly familiar.  That was how everything about him seemed, really, Jaina realized.  Everything was happening for the first time, since she couldn't remember ever having done any of this before, and yet her body and parts of her mind recalled just enough for her to be sure that there were no real _firsts_ occurring.  

            She'd go mad trying to understand it all, so she simply turned off that part of her frantically working mind and enjoyed the experience of being held, of human contact.

            She didn't know how long they had simply stood just inside their door- thankfully it was shut, otherwise their neighbors would most likely think them both crazy- but eventually, both loosened their grips.  It had probably been several minutes longer than she had thought, Jaina guessed, remembering earlier that morning and desperately trying not to blush.  That had taken up a bit more time than she had thought possible to be spent simply kissing.

            Kyp must have noticed her pink cheeks, because while his smile was simple, his eyes danced with wicked delight.  He tapped a finger against her cheek.  "Maybe again later, Goddess," he said, and she felt her face heat even more.  "But right now I've got to get my things together."

            "I'll wait," she said, following him into their room.

            "You could make the bed," he offered.  Just as she opened her mouth to agree, his eyes gleamed.  "It's only fair, since you were the one who decided we should sleep together last night."

            Her mouth snapped shut and she wondered if it was possible for her to flush any redder.  Apparently so, for Kyp laughed, pulled her back into his arms, and told her, "It hasn't been this easy to make you blush in years."

            "You're enjoying this entirely too much," she protested.

            "Of course I am," he agreed instantly, and chuckled.  He leaned forward, kissed her cheek and trailed his lips up to her ear, where he murmured, "Because I know just how far down the blush goes."  And his hand paused just above her stomach.

            She stared at him in shock, felt her the heat in her cheeks rise to a scorching level, and did her best to swallow.

            He only laughed again and brushed a light kiss against her lips.  "This is going to be fun," he murmured.

            Jaina found her voice at last.  "_Fun_?" she repeated incredulously, ordering her heart to slow down to a reasonable rate and largely failing.  "_What's_ going to be fun?"

            Kyp simply grinned down at her, smile wicked and eyes positively gleaming with a light that made her want to shiver and back away- or step closer.

            "Yeah," he said, and he sounded content.  "Lots of fun."


	13. Chapter 13

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 13 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

"I don't like the idea," Leia said, watching her daughter stuff clothing into her two bags.

            "Why not?" Jaina asked, looking up from rolling up a shirt that really should have folded.

            Leia sighed, stepped forward, and took the ball of fabric from Jaina.  Shaking it out and folding it neatly, she tried to put her worry into words.  "There's a splinter group of Yuuzhan Vong targeting you, and they're sending you to their planet.  That's a bit backwards to me."  She went to lay the shirt in the bag, saw the haphazardly packed clothing already stuffed in the bag, and put the shirt on the bed instead.  "It doesn't seem like a step in the right direction."

            Jaina's grin was brief and absentminded.  "No, it doesn't, does it?  But it felt like the best choice to me."  She was collecting the few toiletries she'd left scattered on her desk.  Unlike her clothing, those she packed with expert precision into a smaller stiff bag.  She looked up as she snapped the bag shut, and stared at it with a surprised expression on her face.  "How did I manage to fit everything in?" she wondered.

            Leia sighed again.  "You're a pilot, Jaina, and you pack like one.  And you're ignoring me."

            Jaina heaved a sigh and moved back to the bed.  She set the stiff bag down, then looked up at her mother.  "Not ignoring, precisely.  Just sort of, um, filtering."  She looked at the shirts that Leia had unpacked, not lying neatly stacked on her bed.  "You didn't have to do that."

            "You pack like your father.  I'm used to it," Leia said.  "Jaina, I really am not sure that this is the best thing for you to do.  Not with your memory gone."

            Leia's daughter sat still for a few heartbeats, giving Leia a chance to study her more closely.  She had been bright and cheerful when she and Kyp had arrived, and as such, hard to pin down.  Now that she was finally motionless, Leia could see that her daughter was no longer so pensive, so concerned, so desperately trying to find out what was going on and what she had missed.  She was settling down; the darkness beneath her eyes had shrunk, and she looked nearly rested for the first time in days.  

            As Jaina hadn't slept in her room last night, Leia was hard pressed not to ask just why she'd been over at Kyp's so early in the morning.  If she'd been the one to talk to Jaina when she'd commed, Leia had no doubt she would have asked.  But no, Jacen had merely relayed the message and not asked any of the questions Leia would have.

            "Mom," Jaina began, and looked up at her, deep brown eyes contrasting sharply with creamy skin- skin which, Leia was pleased to note, held a hint of color once more.  "When we were kids, you used to tell us to trust our feelings.  Do you still think we should?"

            Though she had a feeling she wouldn't like the reasoning behind Jaina's logic, Leia agreed.

            "When General Darklighter told me that I could go to Sekot, it just seemed like something was telling me to go there."  She shrugged.  "Jedi instinct, gut feeling, one of Dad's hunches, whatever- my first impression was that I should go.  I've been relying on first impressions and gut feelings a lot these past few days, and they haven't hurt me yet.  I think I should go."

            Leia took a breath, reminded herself that her little girl wasn't a little girl anymore, and let it out.  "All right.  I just don't like the idea of you being all by yourself just yet."

            "Kyp and Jag will be with me," Jaina pointed out.

            "Neither of which are related to you."

            Jaina raised one eyebrow.  "Kyp's close enough."

            Leia promised herself she wouldn't ask about Kyp.  It was none of her business how the two of them were working things out- she just hoped that things turned out well.  "He'll take care of you."  She had no doubts about that much, at least.

            "Yeah."  Jaina sounded a little too pleased with herself on that count, and so Leia was quick to continue the conversation.

            "So you and Jag had a nice day yesterday?"

            "Mmhm," Jaina agreed, and she began to place her neatly-folded clothing back into the bag.  "I understand why we're friends."

            Leia was curious, and asked, "What was your first impression of him?"

            Jaina paused, considering, and finally said, "Loyal.  Honorable.  And very polite.  He needs to unbend a bit more, but he's brave and trustworthy."  She paused again.  "I felt like I could talk to him about anything, and that he'd do his best to look out for me.  He's like a male version of Tenel Ka- noble, polite, stubborn, proud, and with a sense of humor that you have to dig for."  Leia choked back laughter.  "What?"

            "I'm wondering just how he and the Queen Mother would react to the comparison," she said drily.

            Jaina's smile was slow.  "They'd probably both wonder just where I found similarities," she said, and shrugged.  "I don't know.  He's a friend.  Almost like an older brother, but not quite."

            Leia smiled before she could help it.  "Now I wonder what Jacen would say to that."

            Jaina laughed.  "Ah, but he's not older than me, now is he?  Anyway, I'm glad Jagged's coming along.  I feel comfortable with him."

            "That's good," Leia said, and kept herself from asking about how she felt about Kyp.  It had taken time to grow used to the idea of having Kyp as a son-in-law, but now that she had, she found the idea of Jaina happy with anyone else a bit hard to fathom.  But that would be meddling, and Leia had promised herself not to meddle.  "And overall, I'm forced to admit that your feelings and first impressions seem to be pretty accurate."

            "I thought so," and Jaina sounded pleased again.

            Leia bottled her motherly curiosity down, and asked a much broader question than she wanted to.  "What did you think of everyone else?"

            Jaina's hands again paused in her packing.  As she resumed her task, she began to speak.  "Jacen grew up.  He's still the same, but he understands who he is now.  Before he just seemed to be asking questions and never finding any answers.  Now he's still questioning, but he's questioning the answers, not the questions.  Does that make sense?"  Not waiting for a reply, she continued on.  "He's stronger, more controlled in the Force.  It's easier to link up with him.  He understands things better now.  But he's still my little brother and he still has a warped sense of humor." 

            She finished repacking her now-folded clothing, and began to add the few other belongings she'd decided to take.  "Dad's a bit different.  He got older, and I'm not sure I like that.  But inside he's still the same old Dad I remember."  She zipped the bag and then looked at her mother, and she smiled.  "You're the most changed," she said, to Leia's surprise.  "You're not as buried underneath images anymore.  You're strong in the Force, more a Jedi than you were ten years ago.  I look at you and I think _mother and friend_, not _mother and princess_ or _mother and chief of state_ like I did before.  I'm proud of being your daughter.  It's like you peeled away all those layers that hid who you really are, and I like whoever's underneath."

            Leia swallowed tears.  "I love you, sweetie."

            "I love you too, Mom."  And Jaina hugged her.  As she released Leia, her eyes sparkled with sudden mischief.  "Even though you're desperately trying not to pry about Kyp."

            She gave a watery laugh.  "I'm trying to remind myself that you're not my little girl anymore and that you have a life of your own."

            Jaina laughed too, and when she spoke, her eyes were still dancing with amusement.  "So is it working, or are you going to pry all the same?"

            Leia tugged at Jaina's loose hair.  "It's not working.  Where were you last night, young lady, and just what do those feelings of yours say about Master Kyp Durron?"

            Jaina's grin spread.  "Now you sound like the Mom I remember."

            Leia crossed her arms, and gave her daughter a mild glare.  "I'm waiting."

            "I don't like being away from him," Jaina said simply.  "I can't sleep unless I've got something of his with me.  I trust him, I'm attracted to him, and I feel safe with him.  I like making him laugh."  Her lips quirked.  "I get the feeling I like arguing with him.  I'm still in love with him, Mom."

            "I thought so," Leia agreed.  She sat down on the bed and looked up at her daughter.  "And I'm glad.  I wasn't too happy when you first agreed to be Kyp's apprentice all those years ago, and I was a bit worried when you two first started showing up to everything together.  But he loves you, Jaina, and he made you happy.  It's all a mother can ask for her daughter."

            "I'm still going to marry him."

            Leia didn't so much as blink, and she was proud of herself.  "Does he know that yet?"

            "Yeah."  And to her amazement, Jaina flushed.  "I told him this morning after I fell asleep at the apartment last night."

            "Oh, really," Leia said, torn between delight and consternation.  "Do I need to have your father give Kyp a lecture, or are you just blushing because it's warm in here?"

            "_Mom_!"

-

            "So."  Han, well aware that Leia was most likely interrogating Jaina under the guise of helping her pack, glanced at the dark-haired man leaning against the chair.  "You look better."

            Kyp's grin flashed.  "Yeah."

            Han grinned back, knowing that the only person able to make Kyp that happy was Jaina.  "Told you everything would work out, kid."

            "Yeah.  You were right."  Kyp met his eyes squarely.  "Thanks."

            Han waved his hand, unconcerned with Kyp's gratitude.  "Congratulations.  Again.  So do I need to repeat all those things I said the first time around, or do you still remember them?"

            The Jedi's smile grew a fraction wider.  "Don't worry, you won't have to hunt me down anytime soon.  I'll take care of her."

            Han nodded, completely satisfied.  "Good.  You might marry her, but she's still my little girl.  Hurt her and I hurt you.  It's that simple."

            "Message logged."

            "Good."  They lapsed into silence once more.  A bit uncomfortable, Han broke it.  "Leia's probably giving Jaina the third degree."

            "Jaina can take care of herself."

            "Yeah, I guess."  Han stared at Kyp, remembering the brash teenager he'd helped escape from Kessel.  Still brash, Han reflected, but not really so much of a kid anymore.  That thought was shrugged aside instantly.  No, still a kid.  If he started thinking about how much the kid had grown, he'd feel old.  Kyp was still a bit too cocky for his own good, still too strong in the Force for Han to really understand... still strangely comfortable with pensive silence.  Han cleared his throat.

            "I'm glad you're going to be sticking around," he offered at last.  

            Kyp looked away from Jaina's door.  "Me too."

            "How is she?"  Han could ask Kyp what he couldn't ask Jaina; hopefully Kyp would give him a straight answer.

            His hopes were safe.  The happiness in Kyp's eyes didn't fade, but concern was present in his voice.  "She's still Jaina," he said honestly.  "But she's still figuring out just what that means.  She's trying, and she's doing a lot better."

            "Is she happy?" Han blurted.  That was the main thing he needed to know.  

            "I want to think so."

            "Good."  Han blew out a breath.  "That's all I need to know.  How much time do you have before you two leave?"

            "Six hours.  I've got to put Stubborn on the freighter still, and Jaina wants to see Tekli before we leave."

            "Six hours," Han repeated thoughtfully.  Laughter erupted from Jaina's room; he glanced at the door, but it didn't open.  "You got any plans besides those?"

            Kyp smirked.  "Not for today, no."

            Han bit down his automatic, fatherly response of _Keep your hands off my daughter_- he'd gotten pretty good at ignoring that response over the past two years- and decided it was probably best for his peace of mind if he didn't ask what those other plans entailed.  He liked the kid, and wanted to keep it that way.  "Want to come back here after dealing with Stubborn and Tekli?  Jacen'll be back and we can have dinner before you leave."

            "Sounds fine to me," the younger man said.  "Don't we have to check with the ones in charge, though?"

            Han eyed Jaina's door.  "I think I can talk 'em into it," he said.  


	14. Chapter 14

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 14 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Dinner was close to what it had been before Jaina had been attacked.  It was loud, filled with affectionate barbs and indignant protests of innocence.  Conversation ranged from debate over Jedi philosophy- which Jaina listened to, looking confused- to Han's plans for the _Falcon_- which Jaina eagerly discussed with her father for the better part of dinner- to just who and what could be expected on Sekot- which Jaina did her best to pay attention to, but she had her sabaac-face on, so Kyp knew she was merely feigning interest as her brother went on and on about various vegetation.  It was a laughing, teasing family meal.  Leia, as usual, tried to keep order, and Han, also as usual, did his level best to undermine her attempts.

            It made Jaina obviously happy.  She was content and relaxed, enjoying the random topic changes and baiting words.  Kyp saw Han glancing at her more than usual, and watched the older man relax and calm over their meal.  Han put up a fierce argument whenever anyone suggested that he was going soft- he stubbornly claimed that he was just an aging smuggler who had no interest in diplomacy, soft words, or anything that would ruin his image. 

            To an extent, Kyp figured it was true.  Han had been one of his earliest role models, sort of a cross between a father figure, an older brother, and as the years went by, a friend.  He thought that he knew how Han's mind worked pretty well; he was more than half-convinced that his own mind worked basically the same way.  Han had convinced himself that he was simply looking out for what was his.  It was the basic smuggler's code, and it came as no surprise to Kyp that Han protected his own.

            What Han didn't realize, Kyp thought, was that Han considered rather a lot to be his and therefore under his protection.  He looked after his own, all right: Leia, Luke, the [i]Falcon[/i], his children, and anything that could make them happy.  Which meant, as the years went by, that Han wound up protecting the Rebel Alliance, the New Republic, the Jedi Academy, Mara, Ben, Rogue Squadron, refugee camps, Tahiri, even Kyp himself- all under the pretense he was just watching out for what was his.

            Han might have himself convinced he was simply following the smuggler's code.  Kyp- and the rest of the galaxy- knew better.  Han simply had a big heart.

            And that heart was currently worried about his daughter.  The dinner had relaxed her and made her happy, so Han was able to set his worries aside for a bit.  Kyp's promise to look after her had no doubt also eased his mind.  Han was just doing everything he could to look after Jaina before she went beyond his reach.

            If Kyp hadn't been sure Han would deny setting the dinner up for the single purpose of making his daughter happy, Kyp would have thanked him.  His mind worked much the same way as Han's, after all.  Protect what was yours.  He had just as much invested in Jaina's happiness as Han did.

            As Threepio prattled on about how glad he was that the food had been well-received, Jaina glanced over at Kyp.  He nodded, and stood.  "We need to get going," he said to the table in general.  "Jaina needs to visit Tekli and I need to get Stubborn aboard."

            "All right," Leia agreed, and chairs scraped across the floor as everyone stood.  She came around the table and gave her only daughter a tight hug.  "Stay safe and don't go looking for trouble," she ordered Jaina as she released her.

            Jaina grimaced.  "Only if it doesn't look for me," she said, and reached a hand up to ruffle her brother's hair.  "Take care of yourself."

            "I will," Jacen said, squeezing her shoulder.  "Say hi to Danni for me."

            A light came into Jaina's eyes.  "I will.  Should I also say-"

            "-No," Jacen said firmly.  "Absolutely not."

            "Aw, why not?" Jaina teased, all too pleased with herself, but Jacen didn't rise to the bait.  He merely glared at her, and after a moment, she let her wide grin die back down.  "Oh, all right, if you insist.  I'll be good."

            "Only within reason," her father cautioned her.  Jaina grinned and fell into his embrace for a long moment.  "Have fun and be safe, sweetie.  Come back when it's safe."

            "I will."  She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.  "Love you, Dad."

            "Yeah, love you too, kid."  But despite Han's gruff words, his hands curved gently around her waist, and as he stepped back, he smoothed back her hair carefully.  His brown eyes flickered over his daughter's head and squarely met Kyp's.  He could read the message imprinted there: _Bring her back safe.  Or else_.

            Kyp nodded shortly, and the older man's craggy face creased into a grin.  "Well then," he said, and brought his hands together.  "You'd better be off."

            Leia moved to his side; almost absently, Han slung an arm around her waist and pulled her close against him.  Kyp wondered if, thirty years in the future, he would be so casually assured of himself around Jaina to simply reach for her and find her at his side. 

            She glanced up at him.  "Ready?" she asked.

            He waved his hand towards the door.  "Goddesses first."

            She rolled her eyes, shouldered her duffel bag, and toggled the door open.  He followed her out into the hall and slung his own bag over his shoulder.  Behind them, Leia called out, almost as an afterthought, "Jaina, remember what you told me!"

            The door cycled shut; Kyp looked down at Jaina to find her blushing and horrified.  He hadn't attained the rank of Jedi Master without learning something along the way, so Kyp wisely kept his mouth shut and didn't ask.

            As they stepped out into the twilight, Jaina turned left.  Kyp reached out with his free hand and pulled her back.  "Nope, we're going this way."

            "But the Medical Wing is the other way," she protested.

            "I told you, I don't like the idea of you going off on your own."

            She sighed, but her stride settled into a longer step to match his, and she made no real attempt to move from his side.  "If you insist."

-

            The _Nissia_ was a large Antollan freighter, designed for transporting damaged fighters from space to groundside repair facilities.  As such, it wasn't much to look at: blackened scorch marks creased its sides, dents pockmarked its surface, and the inside was cramped, worn, and smelled of hydraulic fluid.

            But it had a working 'fresher, a kitchen area, a table with a bench wound around it, beds, and room enough to stand and stretch, which no snubfighter could boast.  The _Nissia_ certainly wasn't the preferred ship for passenger comfort, but to Kyp, spending ten days aboard the _Nissia_ was infinitely preferable to spending ten days folded into Stubborn.

            The _Nissia_ boasted a crew of two: Captain Meera'gi, who appeared nearly human but for the twitching extra eyelids and the three extra fingers on each hand, and Oshilei, the short human mechanic with nearly no hair left and a grandfatherly air about him.  To Kyp's eyes, Meera'gi and Oshilei were a team as surely as Han Solo and Chewbacca had been: slight one, and both would be furious; aid one, and both would be grateful.

            Jag had yet to arrive, so Kyp waved his hand at the two cabins allotted to the three passengers.  "Take your pick, Goddess.  Jag and I will take the one you don't want."

            Jaina stuck her head into both cabins.  They were side-by-side and identical: both boasted two narrow, hard-looking beds bunked together and bolted into the walls and a small, cramped closet.  "Well, choices, choices," Jaina muttered, and slid her duffel down onto the floor.  She turned to face him.  "Um, I have a favor to ask."

            Kyp's eyebrows rose, and he propped his bag against the wall.  "Yeah?"

            Her request came out quickly.  "Can I share a room with you?"  His shock at the nature of her favor must have been apparent, because Jaina glanced down at her feet.

            He managed precisely one word.  "Why?"

            She was silent for a long moment; he could feel embarrassment radiating off of her in waves.  "I can't fall asleep if I don't have something of yours," she said at last.  "I used your cape the first two nights, but I only figured it out that third night when I didn't have it and couldn't sleep.  And then last night I was with you and I fell asleep right away..."

            Kyp hadn't seen Jaina blush this much... well, ever.  He chuckled.  "Sure, Goddess," he said, and her sigh of relief made him smile and step closer.  He trailed his knuckles over her face.  "But it might present a small problem."

            Her forehead creased as she frowned.  "Problem?"  She sounded confused.  

            He pressed his lips to her forehead, erasing the frown lines, and kissed his way down to her mouth, enjoying the way her lashes fluttered against her cheek as her eyes drifted shut.  Only after teasing her, feathering kisses along her jaw, nipping at the corners of her lips, did he reach out and pull her firmly against him.  He nudged her mouth open with his and finally kissed her properly, ravaging her mouth and doing his level best to render her senseless.

            He was, apparently, succeeding.  Jaina turned soft and boneless and melted against him, her arms twining up around his neck so that her fingers could slid into his hair and hold his head against hers.  The small part of his mind that was still thinking noted that and was satisfied; the rest of him was still focused on her warm mouth, her hesitant tongue, the sweet taste of her that he had nearly- so nearly- lost forever.

            Kyp slid his hand from her waist up her spine and behind her hair to the soft skin at the nape of her neck; she gave a moan that was muffled by his mouth, and Kyp smiled and pulled away from her.

            She blinked up at him, mouth rosy and swollen from his attention, eyes aching and confused and needy.  "What-?" she began, and Kyp bent and kissed her once more, all too softly for both their tastes.

            "That's the problem," he said, lifting his lips barely a centimeter from hers to speak.

            "Problem?  What problem is there- oh!"  And her breath came out on a moan as he quickly kissed her again and spun her back to arm's length.

            He couldn't keep himself from smiling.  "You're going to have to be quiet," he told her with a smirk.  "Another little noise like that last one, and who knows what Jag's going to think."

            He watched her eyes go round and clear with understanding.  That spark of anger kindled in their brown depths, and before she could give voice to her embarrassment, Kyp picked up his duffel and randomly picked a room to stow it in.  Jaina mimicked his moves behind him, arms stiff with shock or fury.

            Yes, this was going to be fun.  It had been years since he had been able to tease her like this.  He knew she was embarrassed and currently angry, but she always reacted with a bit of anger when he teased her, verbally or physically.  It was to be expected; this was Jaina, after all.

            This was going to be fun.

-

            _That stuck-up, smug little... little..._ Jaina sought for an appropriate insult for the infuriating man beside her as she knelt and secured her duffle bag for the journey. _He did that on **purpose**.  And it worked, damn him._

            She wasn't angry that he had kissed her; far from it.  She was angry that she had played into his hands. _That's right, Durron, hint at this **problem** so you can show it to me... damn pilot's ego.  He could probably use his ego instead of shields and still fly through a supernova without a scratch. **Problem**.  Ha.  I'll show him a **problem**._ Then, because the idea appealed to her, she gathered her courage in her hands and stood to face him.

            "It won't be a problem," she said calmly.

            That insufferable smirk was back.  "Are you sure?"

            She put her hands on her hips; the door was behind her, and she had him trapped within the small room.  "You don't need to worry about me," she said, steeling herself.

            Kyp looked amused.  "Really."

            "Oh yes," she told him, and she reached up with her right hand and skimmed her fingertips across his cheek, was gratified to see his eyes sharpen and lock on hers.  "I'll be perfectly fine."

            His hand came up to trap hers; she skillfully dodged it and lifted her other hand up to brush back silver-streaked hair.  "But you're right, we might have a problem."

            "And what would this new problem be?" Kyp asked, successfully catching her left hand in his.

            She let her smile stretch across her lips, and to her surprise, the courage she'd been sure she would need proved unnecessary.  It was all too easy and natural to rock up against him and press her mouth against his, all too familiar for her to coax him into kissing her back, all too pleasant to simply lean against him let their tongues gently war and their breath mingle.  He tried to control the kiss, but somehow Jaina was able to tease him away from it; she nipped at his bottom lip, and he groaned her name.

            She pulled away quickly, even though most of her protested the distance she put between them, and her laughter was low and triumphant.  "You're going to have to be quiet," she mocked him.  "Jag might hear you say that and what would he think?"

            She turned away from him, and wasn't displeased at all when his hands caught her by the elbows and kept her from leaving the room.  His voice was lower, somehow raspier.  "Are you playing with me, Goddess?"

            She looked back over her shoulder at him, found that his green eyes were deep and intense and boring into her.  "Playing?"  She pretended to consider the question.  "I don't know.  You started it."

            "Careful, Goddess," Kyp warned, though he was smiling and his face was very close to hers.  "You might not remember all the rules to this game."

            "Rules?"  She considered that too, then rejected it.  "What fun are rules?"

            That brought a bark of laughter from him, and his grip on her loosened.  "You might not remember much, but you're still Jaina," Kyp informed her, releasing his grip and letting her leave the room ahead of him.  As they walked through the ship's hall, past the small living area, and down the access ramp, his arm came to rest over her shoulders in a gesture she was beginning to think was automatic. 

            Then, in her head, came a gentle touch. _Still my Goddess.  Always arguing with me._

            So she had been right about it all- this teasing, this bantering tension, this had been part of their relationship.  So she shot right back, _Still the rogue Jedi, convinced he's the only one who knows the right answer._ Their Force bond no longer seemed strange and foreign, but rather a part of her; she turned her steps toward the Medical Wing with a light heart.

            His grip on her shoulder tightened for a moment, then relaxed once more.  "I'm glad you're still here," he said softly aloud.

            Jaina slid her arm around his waist so that her hand curled against his far side.  Despite everything, he still made her happy.  He made her laugh and feel wanted- needed, even.  He made things feel right again, even if it was through some strange bantering game of kisses.

            "Me too," she agreed on a sigh, grateful for his presence beside her, for the support he constantly provided, for the love he unconsciously gave her.  

            "You realize you haven't won yet," he told her as they finally reached the Council's Complex.

            "Won?"

            His lips twitched.  "The game."

            "Oh yes, the game."  She grinned.  "I don't see any problems."

            He glanced down at her; she pretended not to see.  Just as she pretended not to notice the speculation light in his eyes, the sidelong glances he would shoot her way as they made their way into the Medical Wing.  But as they approached the correct building, he finally spoke again.  "I wonder who will win."

            She merely shrugged.  She had the feeling that whoever won, she'd enjoy the victory- or the defeat- as much as she enjoyed the game.


	15. Chapter 15

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 15 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

The _Nissia_ shivered and hummed as it flung itself through hyperspace.  Jag sat quietly at the table, hands neatly folded around a cup of caf.  Meera'gi and Oshilei had wisely claimed they had duties to attend to, and Jag had the suspicion that they had both locked themselves into the cockpit.  It had probably been a wise decision.

            He eyed the pair before him.  Jaina was pacing, each step somehow a study in exasperation, arms tight and forcefully still at her sides.  Her eyes danced with temper and color rode high on her cheeks.  Jag had to take a sip of his caf to hide his grin; he agreed with Kyp in that she was beautiful when she was angry.  Fortunately, he disagreed with Kyp and wasn't fool enough to intentionally provoke her into it.  He was sure that had been why he had dated her for so long and remained basically unscathed.

            But Kyp hadn't intentionally provoked Jaina this time.  He was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room- which really wasn't all that far away, the _Nissia_'s living space being rather cramped.  His arms were crossed and his face had gone stern and harsh and determined; anger burned somewhere in his green eyes.  But where Jaina's eyes flickered and sparked with fury, his eyes burned steady and constant.

            Yes, a wise man would have left the room with Meera'gi and Oshilei.  But Jag had seen them argue before, and he knew that the presence of an innocent bystander somewhat toned down their arguments.  For the sake of the small space of the _Nissia_ and the fact that they had another two days before they reached Csilla, Jag was ready to sacrifice himself as the innocent bystander and hope that they calmed down.

            Soon.  

            He didn't particularly enjoy seeing them fight like this.  The banter, the flirting, the quick insults shot back and forth that were, somehow, their strange form of endearments- that he didn't mind.  Jaina and Kyp were, after all, two of his best friends.  His best friends, actually, if he didn't count the Chiss he had grown up alongside.  He had been rather proud of the fact that he'd been able to convince Jaina to speak with Kyp.  When the two of them had announced their engagement, Jag had felt as though he had somehow paid both of them back for their friendship over the years.

            When he'd said as much to them, they'd only laughed, and Jaina had told him, "You can take that two ways, you realize.  You either think we're great friends and deserve to be happy or that we're terrible friends and deserve to have to put up with each other all the time."

            He hadn't considered the second reason, but it fit all the same.  They put up with each other remarkably well, all things considered.

            Jag winced as the argument resumed.  Most of the time, that was.

            "Last chance," Jaina said, pacing her way to in front of Kyp and stopping.

            Kyp didn't flinch away; he remained still and glared down at her.  "No."

            A breath hissed out from between Jaina's teeth as she fought to control her temper.  Somewhere, Jag wondered why the two people who knew what the Dark Side was from their own experience could so easily provoke the other into a rage.  Anger was of the Dark Side- wasn't that what Tahiri had explained so long ago? 

            But he was forced to admit that both Jedi before him were admirably controlling their tempers.  It was probably why they got along so well.  Neither of them would risk a point where the Dark Side became an option.

            Jaina called Kyp something Jag figured it best to pretend he hadn't heard.  "Come on, Kyp, you can take memories away so well- I'm sure you can help bring them back."  Her voice was taunting, insulting.

            The fury in Kyp's eyes rose a notch.  "That's right," he said coldy.  "I've got more experience than you playing around with people's minds.  I know exactly what could go wrong. And so there's not a chance I'll do it, thanks all the same."

            Jaina had come to stand right before him, and she now had her hands on her hips.  "It's been two weeks," she hissed.  "Tekli said-"

            "I don't care what Tekli said!"  Kyp's arms uncrossed and grabbed Jaina's shoulders.  "She's not here, is she?"

            Jag hoped that this would die out soon.  Whenever arguments became physical around them, they tended to lead to either the kiss-and-make-up stage or lightsaber duels followed by the kiss-and-make-up stage.  He simply considered the fact that neither of them could finish an argument without a kiss further proof that they belonged together.

            Besides, he was really hoping that they would stop arguing and kiss.  The _Nissia_'s common room didn't have nearly enough room for a lightsaber fight.

            To Jag's relief, though, the argument appeared to be finally dying down.  "Damn you, Kyp," Jaina said, but the heat in her voice had lessened.  "I want to _remember_."

            Her voice had wobbled on that last word, and with that, the anger melted out of Kyp's frame.  The hands on her shoulders loosened; his voice softened.  "I know you do."

            It looked as though Jaina might cry.  Jag set his caf down carefully and rose, trying to move as quietly as possible.  He slipped through the door into the corridor before Jaina could reply, and made his way to his room.  He shut and locked his door, and glanced at the chrono.  It was early, but it was probably the decent thing to do to turn it a bit early and not play voyeur on their kiss-and-make-up stage of fighting.

            Jagged moved about the room with precise steps, shedding his jacket and shirt before dimming the lights and stretching out on the bottom bunk.  He'd locked the door; there was no way for either Kyp or Jaina to beg a safe haven for the night.  They'd have to deal with each other first.  Jag had no intention of getting between the two of them again.  Besides, they had been strangely silent the past few nights- not that he had been listening; he'd just expected to hear more than nothing.  This was Kyp and Jaina.

            He felt a frown crease his features.  He wanted Jaina to be happy.  Having Kyp as a lover made Jaina happy.  If they weren't lovers, then Jaina wasn't as happy as she should be.  He sighed.  He'd done his level best to play matchmaker before, and it had started the whole process.  He really didn't want to have to try again to finish it all.

            Besides, he had enough problems of his own.  He took a deep breath and leaned his head back.  Thoughts of golden hair and bright eyes invaded his mind, and he did his best to banish them as he exhaled.  But as usual, the vision persisted, and he cursed himself.  And wished that he could instead curse a young man who had died and left her alone to mourn, alone to fight to exist, alone to sit at the edge of their circle of friends, alone to...  Just alone.

            But he couldn't find it in him to curse the dead, so instead he settled on cursing himself for loving someone who loved the dead.

-

            Kyp's hands on her shoulders gentled, and his thumbs stroked against her collarbones.  "I know you do," he said, and his voice was no longer tight and furious.

            Jaina fought not to cry.  She wouldn't cry.  She had promised she wouldn't cry.  "It's not fair," she said.  "You can help me, you're good at all those Jedi mind tricks..."  She reached out for him in desperation, and didn't mind when he pulled her close so she could stand securely wrapped in his arms.  She shut her eyes and held him tighter.  "Please."

            "No," he said quietly, breath stirring the top of her hair.  She tucked her head against her shoulder and told herself she wouldn't cry.  "I can't."

            "Why not?" she asked, not liking how small her voice had become.

            He didn't reply for a long moment.  "I don't want to hurt you," he said at last.  "Tekli said to wait a few weeks before we tried."

            "It's been two weeks, Kyp," she pointed out, clinging to that bright strand of hope.

            His sigh rumbled through his chest; she didn't open her eyes.  "Jaina, give it one more week.  One more week and I promise I'll help you."

            One more week.  Seven whole days of having memories dance so close to her consciousness only to retreat and hide the minute she caught sight of them.  Seven whole days of knowing they were there and just out of reach.

            "Promise?" she asked, opening her eyes and leaning back enough to look at him.  "Promise?"

            He seemed to understand, and nodded.  "I won't leave you to deal with them," he said, and one of his hands left her back to cup her cheek.  "I promise in a week I'll try to help you get them back.  But there's nothing that says I'll be able to-"

            "I don't care," she said.  "You'll try."  It wasn't a question.

            Kyp sighed again.  "Yes, Goddess, I'll try."  And he bent and kissed her, softly, gently, as though he was afraid she was going to break.

            She felt like she would.  To have everything so near, so close, but so impossibly far- she felt as though she was being pulled apart.  So she let herself be cherished, let herself enjoy the way Kyp's arms were kind and worshipful and protective around her, and hoped that he wouldn't let her break.

-

            It scared him, the way she was so desperate to have her memories back.

            Jaina shifted in her sleep, and Kyp tightened his arms around her.  Tonight she had flat-out refused to sleep in her own bed, and now she was crowded against him in his.  The bed was narrow and hard and definitely not built for two, but Kyp didn't mind.  He simply had accepted her refusal, and now he held her as she slept.

            Sleep beckoned to him, but he ignored it.  Kyp had always required less sleep than most others; somewhere between being a slave on Kessel in total darkness and being a pilot on call for most of his life, he had lost the need for a full night's sleep.

            And he would rather be awake to watch over Jaina, anyways.

            She was spreading herself too thin.  She had never before seemed this vulnerable, this... fragile, he decided, as though if she was dealt one more blow, she would shatter.  Jaina was strong, a partner he could rely on, someone who could help support him when he was tired and who could stand by him when he was strong.

            He hadn't thought that she would ever be this vulnerable.  It made every protective instinct he had come screaming to the fore.

            Kyp lifted a hand and smoothed her hair from her face.  She was losing weight, he had noticed earlier.  It was as though she was turning all her energy inward, burning through it to try and dredge up some spark of knowledge from her past.

            She wanted him to help her remember.

            Kyp had always been able to affect minds easily with the Force.  Perhaps too easily- would he have completely wiped Qui Xux's memory if it had not been so simple?  But mind tricks appeared to be the strongest part of his already powerful Force talent; Jaina had at least been right there.  Tekli had suggested, back when Jaina had first awakened with a blank mind, that a fellow Jedi could perhaps help her regain memories.

            Jaina thought Kyp could help her.

            He was good at erasing memories, at destroying things.  He had never tried to create, to give memories back.  He didn't know if he could.

            But she insisted, and he had somehow bought a week's reprieve.

            He wondered what would happen if he couldn't help her.  Would she continue to shrink in on herself?  Would she still look at her surroundings with her eyes lost and confused, as he caught her doing at times?  Would the desperation to remember slowly eat away everything that made her Jaina, so that it became an obsession, a quest, to know the memories that had been stolen from her?

            Would she resent him for not being able to help her, suspect that he could have given her memories back to her but for some reason hadn't?  Would she think he was trying to keep her dependant on him if he failed?

            Kyp forced himself to shut his eyes, and listened to Jaina's steady breathing to calm himself down.  In the darkness, her body fit against his perfectly, as it had before the entire mess had happened.

            If she resented him because she couldn't remember, would he be able to let her go?

            His arms tightened too quickly; the motion startled Jaina from deep sleep.

            "Kyp?" she questioned drowsily, eyes half-opened and bleary.  Her arm trailed across his chest; she tried to raise herself to look at him.

            "Go back to sleep, Jaina," he said softly, shifting and pulling her back down.  "I didn't mean to wake you."

            "All right," she said, and her eyes drifted shut as she drifted down.  Her arm slid back across his chest to tighten into an embrace, and a small smile settled onto her lips.  "Love you," she murmured, and was asleep almost before she finished speaking.

            The knot in his chest loosened a notch; Kyp tucked her up against him closer and let his head bend over hers as he shut his eyes.

            Her words were all that mattered.

*** Author's Note: I have written a short one-poster that is connected vaguely to this fic.  Voices, which you can find in my profile, is set about 2 years before this story starts.  The plot doesn't really have anything to do with this, but it's set in the same story arc.


	16. Chapter 16

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 15 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1"It's a frozen ball of ice."

            Her words were flat and amused and final, and they echoed oddly in the small living room.  Jag simply grinned down at her and uncrossed his arms.

            "That's what you said the first time you saw it," he informed her.  

            "I was right then, I am right now," Jaina said drily.  "Honestly, Jagged, look at it.  It's Hoth all over again."

            "No, no," drawled Kyp from behind her.  "Hoth is _marginally_ closer to settled space."

            "Marginally."  Jaina snorted and leaned back into Kyp; his arms came up around her shoulder and crossed in front of her chest.  

            Jag found the gesture amusing, for some reason, and felt his lips twitch up into a smile.  Neither of the two claimed to enjoy public shows of affection, and he supposed that for most humans, they were relatively unaffectionate in public.  They would stand together, walk together, usually with Kyp's arm slung across her shoulder and Jaina's arm curved around his waist, but that was about it.  They were rather reserved in public, as compared to many other couples that Jag had witnessed.  

            But if any of the Chiss saw them standing like that, they'd be branded overly affectionate, if not downright scandalous.  It was an amusing thought.

            "You do remember what I've been telling you about the Chiss?" he asked.

            Jaina snickered.  "Worried we're going to misbehave?"

            _Yes, actually,_ Jag thought, but didn't dare say that out loud.  He settled for simply raising an eyebrow at her.

            Her smile grew.  "We'll be good.  I wouldn't worry about my behavior– Kyp's the one you're going to have to worry about."

            "What makes you think that, Goddess?"  Kyp's voice was warm and amused; Jag saw his thumb stretch up to brush along the soft skin of Jaina's jaw.

            "I'm the daughter of a princess.  I was practically raised by a protocol droid.  I understand what 'being on your best behavior' really means.  You, Master Durron, were raised by smugglers and spice slaves.  You're the one Jag should worry about."

            Kyp growled something Jag was pretty sure he didn't want to overhear into Jaina's ear; she simply laughed.  "Oh, stop complaining."

            "I was a member of the Jedi Council for four years," Kyp protested.  "I think I learned _something_ about being polite in all that time."

            Jaina considered.  "You were?  Four years?"  She tilted her head to the side and back, trying to stare at him, and then gave up and returned her gaze to the rapidly approaching planet in the viewport.  "Hm.  No, you probably didn't learn much.  This is Kyp Durron we're talking about.  Kyp and polite don't belong in the same sentence."

            Kyp opened his mouth to retort, but Jag beat him to it.  "For not having your memories, you're still doing pretty well at figuring things out," he teased her, and was pleased to see her smile back at him.

            "Oh, but this is Kyp," she said airily.  "Kyp's easy."

            "Easy, am I?" Kyp asked.  He loosened his grip on her and spun her around so that she was facing him.  "And I suppose that you think you've got me all figured out then."

            Her eyes were definitely laughing; Jag let his smile spread.  "I've figured out that you're going to kiss me to shut me up," she pointed out, her crooked Solo grin spreading wider.  "So aren't you?"

            The Jedi Master pulled her closer and crushed his mouth against hers for a long moment before releasing her.  "I'm getting predictable in my old age," he muttered into her hair.  His eyes flickered over to meet Jag's, and Jag could see the contentment there.  "Piece of advice, kid: predictable isn't all that bad."

-

            "Was I completely mad?" Jaina wondered aloud, staring down at the heavy fabric in her hands.

            "You agreed to marry me, so some would say so," Kyp said from behind her.  "Or do you have a more specific type of madness in mind?"

            She heard the rustling of fabric from behind her and knew that he was changing into his formal clothes, so she didn't turn to face him.  She shook her head and stroked the burgundy fabric.  "This dress.  I must have been mad."

            "What's so crazy about it?" Kyp asked, and his voice grew nearer until he was standing behind her.  "I always liked it."  A hand reached out to touch the dress, and seeing that the arm it was attached to was covered by a sleeve, Jaina allowed herself to turn around.

            "It's Hapan-style..." she began, and trailed off as she noticed that while Kyp had managed to put his shirt on, he hadn't managed to lace it up completely.  She found herself staring directly at his chest, blinked and forced her eyes to move up to his, and continued before he noticed her pause.  "I must have been crazy.  I don't know how to do it up."

            "Sure you do," Kyp said, apparently attributing her pause to the problem of the dress rather than his chest.  "You were on Hapes for a while in the war, and you and Tenel Ka are still good friends.  You always wear Hapan-style gowns now."

            She inhaled, then released her breath.  "I don't remember how to do up the back," she admitted.  "I never liked them when I was a kid, so I honestly can only remember wearing a Hapan-style dress once."  She glared down at the complex fasteners and ties that lined the back of the gown.  "And I don't think it was quite this complicated."

            He chuckled and let his hand drop from the fabric.  "You'll remember once you've got it on, Goddess," he said.  

            She didn't think so, but she sighed.  "All right.  Give me a minute."

            He bent and kissed her cheek, but stepped back.  Jaina glanced at him, saw with relief that he was facing the wall and pulling on his boots, and quickly shed her shirt and trousers.  It was a little ridiculous to feel so embarrassed about the whole situation– he had seen her naked before, presumably– but Jaina would really rather not think about having Kyp Durron watching her get dressed.  Rather silly, considering that she was supposed to have married him... what would it have been– four more days?

            Still, Jaina moved swiftly, stepping into the gown and pulling it up to her shoulders, slipping her arms through the sleeves.  It was a beautiful gown and was designed for cold weather.  It would make her not only presentable to the Chiss but [i]warm/i]; she gave her past self that much credit, at least. 

            She put her hands behind her, felt her fingers brush against laces and ties and extra folds of fabric that went beneath the ties to protect her skin from the cold air.  She grasped the first loose tie she found, and waited for some rush of knowledge, some hint that she had done this before.  Awkwardly, she twisted her hand across her back, searching for the tie's mate so she could lace up the back of the dress.  She had never noticed before how cold the [i]Nissia[/i] was.

            After several minutes of cursing both Hapes and her past self, Jaina admitted defeat.  "Kyp?" she asked, and felt her cheeks warm with blushing.  She turned to face him.  "Um, can you lace up the back?"

            He had finished his boots and belt, but the damned man hadn't done up the rest of his tunic yet.  Jaina forced herself not to notice as he laughed and came up to her.  "Turn around, Goddess," he ordered, voice soft.  "I'm sorry.  I thought you'd be able to remember."

            She felt his fingers brush against the smooth skin of her back to smooth out the first layer of the dress.  "I couldn't," she said, and shivered.

            "Sorry," Kyp apologized.  "Give me a minute to lace it up and you'll be warm again."

            He thought she was _cold_.  For all his talk about games, the man was as dense as durrocrete.

            His fingers were swift and gentle along her back.  He straightened the first layer, made sure it was lying flat against her back, and competently began fastening the ties together, fingers and the backs of his hands brushing against the fabric and the skin of her back.  Kyp's hands moved with the sureness of practice; Jaina wondered how many times he had helped her dress for formal events.

            She waited in silence as his competent fingers finished the first set of ties, smoothed over the covering, and began on the second set.  Her skin was completely covered, but Jaina could still feel his hands through the thick cloth.  She shivered again as he pulled the laces tight and tied them off, tucking them under the clever Hapan design to hide the fastenings.

            "There you go," he said, and his hands rested lightly on her hips.  "All done up."

            She turned.  "How many times have you done that before?"

            A smile hovered about his face.  "Only once or twice."  She caught the glint in his eye, and her brows furrowed in confusion, so he explained further, "I'm really much better at getting all those laces _undone_ and the dress off of you."

            She told herself she didn't want to think about it, but the mental images his words conveyed rose and taunted her all the same.  She was inclined to spend rather too much time on that particular idea, so she shook her head and reached up to his tunic and began to finish closing it for him.

            "You really are a scoundrel," she told him as her fingers deftly did up the front of his tunic.  His hands tightened on her hips as she finished the last clasp, and kept her from stepping back.  For a brief panicked moment, Jaina wondered what she was supposed to do with her hands, and settled for sliding them down his chest and around his waist, much like he was doing to her.

            "You still need to do your hair," Kyp murmured, resting his chin on the top her head as he pulled her closer.

            She made no attempt to move away; rather, she fit her head against his shoulders and rested her forehead against his neck.  "Yeah," she agreed.  "But that doesn't take too long."  She paused.  "Does it?"

            He laughed softly.  "Don't ask me, Goddess.  I can do up your dress, but I can't do up your hair."

            She smiled and shut her eyes.  "Somehow I'm not surprised."

            A memory hovered nearby, something about her hair and wearing a formal dress and Kyp's help.  Reflexively, she reached for it, steeling herself from disappointment, prepared for it to slip through her fingers like sand.  To her surprise, though, the memory glided slowly into place, words and actions and emotions misting into place and slowly solidifying until Jaina could only gasp in astonishment and remember– actually _remember_.  Forcing herself to remain calm, Jaina tightened her grip on Kyp, and hesitantly– still not sure if this too would vanish and slip away– allowed herself to reach for the thoughts that hovered just within her reach.

~~

_            She is wearing a gown of dark green.  She had picked it because the color reminded her of Kyp's eyes– not that she plans on telling him that, of course.  The fabric feels like mist against her skin, the top bound tight with a simple bodice bordered in gold, the skirt pooling out around her feet like a diaphanous waterfall of deep green silk.  She doesn't like the sleeves overly much, mainly because they were meant to rest on her upper arms rather than her shoulders, and she had worried all throughout the dinner that the entire gown would simply somehow slide off of her.  But the dress was Hapan in design and so no such embarrassment had befallen her._

_            She is home, preparing for bed.  It is late, but she doesn't know precisely how late.  The windows are dark, and she can't see many other lights outside.  _

_            She is happy.  She is smiling as she unwraps the glittering black shawl from her shoulders.  It takes effort for her not to hum under her breath as she kicks off delicate shoes and unfastens her necklace.  Her engagement ring shines and catches the light, and she could nearly laugh at how happy she is.  She didn't do anything stupid at dinner, she was polite to all the ambassadors and politicians, and she doesn't have to go to another such dinner for nearly a month.  _

_            She hears Kyp in the other room, turning off lights and making sure that they didn't miss any messages while they were gone.  She smiles and places her necklace on her bedside table and reaches up to remove her earrings._

_            Something tickles the back of her neck.  A wisp of her hair has fallen loose from the elaborate design her mother had suggested she wear.  She shrugs, not caring– she is going to remove all the pins in a few minutes, so it doesn't matter that her hair is beginning to fall down from its twist.  But one of the pins in her hair slides out and slips to the floor, and another soon follows.  She puts a hand up to her hair, feels it loosen a bit further, feels the slight twitch through the Force that shouldn't have been there as another pin slides free._

            Suspicious, she turns towards the door.  Just as her eyes meet his, the twist collapses and her hair tumbles down around her shoulders.  Kyp's eyes are dark and intent on her, and satisfaction is written across his face.

            She laughs and tosses her head to send the few remaining pins flying out of her tresses.  He crosses over to her and she opens her arms; in half a heartbeat, he bends down to kiss her, and her hands fist in his formal tunic and all she can think is that she's happy and he's happy and everything is perfect.

_            And that he always did prefer for her to wear her hair down._

~~

            Jaina blinked back tears and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.  The memory hadn't left, hadn't disappeared to leave her with vague traces and hints as to what had happened.  It remained, glorious and whole and _there_.

            Kyp's arms tightened then relaxed, and he released her.  "Are you all right?" he asked, concern easily audible.

            Her eyes no longer stung with unshed tears.  "I'm fine," she said, and since her voice sounded hoarse and rusty, she repeated herself.  "Fine."  She turned and moved toward the very dull mirror propped behind the door.  

            She nearly didn't recognize herself: the woman in the burgundy dress had the same eyes, the same hair, the same general body shape and facial structure, but Jaina was still learning to recognize her adult body in the mirror.  Seeing herself in formal dress, the thick burgundy gown warm and layered against her body, her creamy skin glowing and her eyes bright and shining– she couldn't shake the feeling that this was not her, this was not Jaina.  This woman was too old, too beautiful, too poised, too sure of herself and her place in the galaxy.  All the things the Jaina of ten years ago had not been.

            She took a deep breath and picked up her brush.  Her hair was much longer than she had remembered, but over the past two weeks, she had grown used to the length, grown used to the extra seconds needed to pull through her tangled tresses.  It didn't take long for her to brush out her hair; it took even less time for her to pull back part of it and quickly twirl it into a simple twist.  Jaina secured the twist with a few of the collection of pins she had somehow packed, and then looked at herself in the mirror.

            Kyp came to stand beside her, tall and dark and undeniably handsome in his own formal wear.  Jaina considered the two of them in the poor reflection the battered mirror gave.  He was taller, larger, older and somehow rougher than she; standing before him, she looked delicate and young, protected by the guardian standing behind her.

            His hand reached out to touch the hair she had left loose.  "My beautiful Goddess," he said quietly.

            She had remembered.

            She couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her face.  "I thought you'd approve," she murmured.  "Do I have a green dress at home that I wore with a black shawl to a formal dinner?"

            He took a sharp breath.  "Yes.  Jaina–"

            Her smile grew, and she turned away from the mirror to face him, twining her arms around his waist.  "I picked it because it was the same color as your eyes," she told him, and watched the eyes flicker with hope.  "And I was afraid that it was going to slide right off me the whole dinner long.  I wore my hair up, and you, Master Durron, used the Force to take pins out until all my hair was down."  She was beaming up at him now.  "I caught the memory, Kyp.  It was there and I reached for it and it didn't move away.  I remembered that."

            His hand caressed her face.  "Soon, Goddess.  You and I will go off somewhere and we'll try and get the rest back.  I promise, Jaina.  Soon."

            "Soon," she repeated, and, greatly daring, rocked up on her toes to kiss him.  "Soon.  But we're about to land.  Jagged will want us to be ready to meet Commander Eskalan."

            Kyp kissed her once more, gently, before releasing her.  "Soon, Goddess," he promised, waiting as she repacked her bag and pulled on her small warm boots.  When she stood, skirts swishing down to the rounded tips of her boots and covering them– she felt a little odd, wearing boots with such a formal dress, but both dress and boots, her mother had assured her, had been made years ago for her first trip to Csilla, and had served her well then– Kyp took her hand.

            She was happy again, and hopeful, for the first time since they had left Anas.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	17. Chapter 17

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 16 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~ SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

Kyp's attitude toward the Chiss hovered somewhere between respect and toleration.  They were invaluable allies, good pilots and better strategists, brave, loyal, and bound by their honor.  But they were a bit too formal, a bit too repressed for his taste.

            The reception for their arrival was an odd mix of military uniforms and tasteful formal attire.  Most of the Chiss seemed perfectly content to stand talking in small groups, voices quiet and calm, each taking the time to come forward and welcome them to Csilla before melting back into their groups and discussions.  Jag had warned him that it would be like this, so Kyp wasn't precisely confused.

            He was, however, making comparisons.  

            Once, a few years ago, he, Jaina and Jag had set off on a mission together.  They'd been gone barely three weeks, and the mission itself had been boring and tedious.  The night they'd arrived back, their friends had thrown a reception party involving alcohol, loud music and louder conversations, a few shouted arguments between pilots that nearly degraded into fistfights, what could loosely be called dancing, and more laughter than jokes.

            The comparison between that gathering and the present gathering only made the differences in culture more obvious.  Kyp decided that it said something about Jag's personality that the young man had been able, after a few years, to grow comfortable in such a different environment.  The leap from Chiss to Rebel was a large one, and the man had jumped blind.  He hadn't had any idea what he was getting into by making friends with the daughter of Han Solo and a rogue Jedi.

            Despite everything, Jag had done well in Rebel space.  Perhaps a little too well– Kyp caught him with an odd smile on his face twice, and wondered if Jag himself was making a few comparisons.

            "It's very different," Jaina said softly, brown eyes distant and pensive.  

            "It is," Jag agreed at her side.  His lips quirked upward into that amused half-grin again.  "I wonder what you would have become if you had lived with them as I did."

            Kyp entertained the notion of a calm, collected and always-formal Jaina for half a heartbeat for he shook his head.  "Not a pretty image," he said, and meant it.  Jaina wasn't Han Solo's daughter for nothing: her roughness and informality were genetic, as much a part of her as her hair and eye color.

            Jaina's eyes focused back to the present and she giggled slightly.  "Kyp Durron the polite and well-mannered," she mused.  "No, not pretty."

            He couldn't keep himself from grinning down at her.  Oh, they were well-matched, they were.

            Jag smothered his own laughter before it would attract attention from the polite Chiss.  "No, I suspect not.  Still, interesting to think about."

            A Chiss stepped toward them, steps military-precise and back straight.  He exchanged salutes with Jag, then turned toward Jaina.  "Commander Solo," he acknowledged.

            "Commander Eskalan," she said, and nodded her head politely.  Kyp could almost see her switching gears, slipping out of the Jaina-self she was with her friends and into the Jaina-self that was politely diplomatic.  Kyp always thought that her diplomatic self was based on her mother.  "Thank you for arranging all of this.  We are honored."

            "It was our pleasure, Commander.  Your fighters have all been safely docked in our hanger, and we have received the promised coordinates from Sekot."  He paused.  "Do you still wish to leave tomorrow?"

            "We do," Jaina agreed.  "If I am being targeted, then my presence here makes Csilla a target as well.  I have no desire to make your world a target, Commander."

            Black eyebrows rose in faint amusement.  "Csilla would survive, Commander, but your concern is wise.  If you are leaving tomorrow, then I suggest that you retire now.  It will be a long flight to Sekot."

            "Thank you, Commander," Jaina said, and she glanced at Jag before she continued.  "We will take your advice."

            "Then until tomorrow, Commander.  Colonel Fel, Master Durron."  He gave a small bow and another salute to Jag before turning and melting back into the hushed crowd.

            Kyp touched Jaina's shoulder lightly, then let his hand drop.  "All right, turn off your Leia-mode."

            She glared up at him.  "Oh, trust me, I enjoy it as much as you do.  I hate being polite."

            "You fake it well, at least," Jag murmured.  "Since we were offered an escape route, shall we take it?"  He gestured toward the arching door.

            "Yeah," Kyp said.  "C'mon, Goddess, time to go relax."

-

            Jag stood silently before his window.  Beyond the window snow fell lightly onto the glacier-covered expanse.  A gentle wind blew the loose flakes about in the air; all in all, the weather was decidedly calm.

            To his surprise, he was also calm.  He had expected to feel turmoil, to feel the warring loyalties to the Chiss and to his friends, but instead, he was serene.  Almost content.

            Almost.

            He crossed his arms, saw the faint shadow of his reflection on the transparisteel do the same, and considered.  He had been raised as a Chiss, among the Chiss, and had been a credit to his teachers.  He had been as reserved as they could have asked for, as correct as any of the other students.  And he had been secure in the knowledge that, even if he did not precisely fit in, he was accepted and respected.

            Then Jag had left the Unknown Regions and entered a war.  He had met Jaina so early on  in the war that it was easier for him to simply say he had known her since he began fighting against the Yuuzhan Vong.  He had liked her for her piloting skills, admired her for being both pilot and Jedi, enjoyed the way that she could talk with him and make him think.

            But she made him lose a bit of that cool the Chiss had given him, made him take that first step over towards his human heritage rather than his Chiss training.  Then she had left on that fiasco mission, and had come back shattered and a different person.  That was when he had first met Kyp Durron; that was when the three of them had begun to work together.

            A small grin crossed his face.  The three of them made a good team; that was easily obvious.  He and Kyp both needled Jaina, Jaina taunted both of them.  Kyp kept Jaina sane and able to live with herself, Jag kept Jaina from giving up, from going complacent.  Kyp made Jag have to keep trying, keep pushing himself; Jag made Kyp work for things, forced him to put extra effort into things to keep up with the younger man.

            And they all teased each other mercilessly.  They had become a good team.  The war had seen to that much.

            The war had split up their trio for a time, sent all three of them scattered across the galaxy.  Still, in the back of his mind, Jaina's voice nagged at him to be a bit more spontaneous, a bit more unpredictable.  She reminded him that he wasn't Chiss, no matter how hard he tried to act like one.  She gave him back his humanity.  And he was content in the knowledge that even if he wasn't quite normal, he was liked and respected by those whose opinions mattered to him.

            Then the war had ended and he and Jaina had played their game of rendezvousing across the galaxy.  It was an escape from reality, a time he could spend being simply himself and not having to conform to anyone's standards but his own.  Even though he and Jaina had not worked out, it was a time he looked back on with real affection.  She had given him the chance to find out who he was.

            But even during that time, there had been a small part of his mind focused on another.

            He told himself that he had watched her so closely at first because she was a threat to Jaina.  Her episodes meant that she was unpredictable; her fits made her dangerous.  And she had nearly killed Jaina before she had come back to herself.

            After she had returned, though, then he had realized what she had gone through and what she had become.  Caught between two opposing cultures, neither fully one nor the other.  She was a more extreme version of what he felt.

            He wouldn't think about her.

            Deliberately, he turned away from the frozen landscape of a world he no longer considered home.  But he couldn't turn away so easily from his thoughts of her.

            He refused to allow himself to think her name.  By denying her a name, he reminded himself that he was denied of her.  Besides, which name should he call her?  The one she had responded to for the first decade and a half of her life, the one she had been shaped into, or the one that combined the two?

            Empathy welled up in him, and Jag waited for it to sink and vanish.  He had been caught between two cultures, but never to her extent.  Still, he understood a bit better than everyone else what she had gone through.  Or at least he thought he did.  He had never talked about it with her.  Not since the last trip to Sekot.

            He didn't want to remember, but he forced himself to replay the memory.  He had gone looking for Jaina, and she had been with her.  He had heard them say farewell, heard from her shaky voice that she had been crying, heard how Jaina's voice sounded a bit thick with suppressed tears.

            Had heard Jaina tell her that it wasn't fair to her brother to mourn him for the rest of her life.  Had heard her reply.

            "When I love, I love forever."

            Jag shut his eyes for a second, opened them again and stared at his room without seeing it.  That had been years ago, before he and Jaina had broken up.  He hadn't realized _until_ the disaster that caused the breakup that his heart had been lost to the despairing young woman who would never love him.

            He blinked.  It was pointless to think on her.  She still loved Anakin Solo.  She would always love Anakin Solo.  The one that had left her alone and desperate, trying to fit into a mix of cultures.

            The one that had left her alone and struggling with a problem that seemed all too familiar to Jag.  Simple sympathy and understanding had led to something more, something she didn't want.

            Something Jag didn't think he would ever tell her.

~~

Author's Note: Some of you, by now, are going "WHAT?  JAG AND TAHIRI?  ARE YOU **NUTS**?"  One of my friends on tf.n (screenname JainaDurron) has an excellent story called Oskio Preskiana Fracio, which in part featured this pairing.  My fic has this pairing in homage to that story, which is (sadly) one post away from completion.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	18. Chapter 18

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 17 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Sitting alone in her X-wing's cockpit was familiar and comfortable.  Jaina glanced out to her right to see Jag's clawcraft easily pacing her; on her left, Stubborn glided lazily alongside her.

            "Do you two always flank me?" she asked whimsically, unable to keep the smile from her face.

            Jagged's voice was still precise even through the comm.  "Not always," he said, and before Jaina could get a word in edgewise, he and Kyp both accelerated and began to weave back and forth before her.

            She laughed, and before she allowed herself to wonder if she had done this before, before she tried to remember specific motions and maneuvers, allowed herself to get caught up in the simple joy of flying.  She accelerated herself, the frozen orb of Csilla shrinking behind her, and quickly settled into the art of piloting.  Switches were flipped, control stick gripped firmly, a practiced touch to the thrusters, and she juked her way around the two others flying with her.  The three starfighters– so different in appearance– wove their way through black space in an exuberant show of simple delight.  To Jaina, she was a single strand in an intricate braid, dancing and twining and spinning around the other two strands in a pattern unpredictable and uncontrollable.

            It was a simple pleasure, flying.  She understood why she had joined Starfighter Command– flying had always been one of her talents, and she would rather put her talents to use than have them wither away.

            After a few giddy minutes, however, all three seemed to calm, to relax back into normalcy once more.  Jaina shook her head, a smile on her face, when she realized that despite their intricate maneuvers, both men had ended up right back where they had started: on either side of her.

            "Still as good as ever, Goddess," Kyp informed her.

            "Yes," Jagged agreed drily.  "It would have been rather embarrassing if you had managed to run into one of us."

            Jaina fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him– he couldn't see her, after all– and simply smiled.  "I take it we do that often," she said.

            "Often enough.  We're far enough away from the planet to jump now.  Ready?"

            Jaina glanced down, and sure enough, Zero-One had entered the coordinates and was ready for the jump to hyperspace.  She took a breath.  This was the last step.

            "I'm ready."

            "All right, then I'll be seeing you both over Sekot," Jagged said.  "On my mark.  Three, two, one, mark!"

            She reached forward and activated her drive, and watched the stars stream and melt into long silver lines, watched the lines swirl together into a multi-threaded tapestry of light, watched the tapestry spin into a glowing cocoon of color.

            Traveling in an X-wing in hyperspace was possibly the most [i]alone[/i] Jaina had ever been.  Beyond her cockpit, beyond the thin canopy, hyperspace glowed brightly as it streamed past her.  She knew intellectually that both Kyp and Jagged were traveling nearby, their ships flinging them through space just as fast as she was flying, but she saw nothing but the tunnel of light around her.  It was a rather disconcerting sensation; she reached out through the Force and brushed up against Kyp's presence.  He felt near, though not as near as he should have been, and he sent back a warm tingle of love that coaxed a soft smile to her lips.  She sent back a teasing thought, an amused and relieved thanks, and pulled away.

            She contemplated the glorious colors of hyperspace for a moment.  Most Jedi, she knew, put themselves into trances when traveling through hyperspace for extended periods of time.  She'd done it once before– well, she was certain she'd done it more than once before, but she _rememebered_ doing it once, so that was what counted– and knew that if she wished, she could order her thoughts into meditation and spend the rest of the flight breathing deeply, heartbeat slowed and body half shut down.

            Kyp would be entering a trance even now.  Jaina wasn't quite sure how she knew that, but it was one of those niggling annoying bits of memory that really didn't have to do with anything important– the only kind that she seemed to be able to recall.  But Kyp had checked on her through the Force, found her all right, and so he would now be slipping into a relaxed trance.  His breathing would even and slow even as his heart would become sluggish.  His eyelids would drift down over his eyes, and his muscles would relax into sleep.

            Jaina blinked, a bit surprised at how detailed her memory was.  She must have watched him go into trance before, then.  That would make sense.

            Jagged Fel, however, not being a Jedi, would be settling back into his ball of a cockpit, arranging himself as comfortably as possible and taking care not to place his hands near any vital buttons that he might accidentally push or activate with a sudden movement.  Kyp wouldn't have to worry about that; he would be motionless in trance.  Jag would have to entertain himself for the two day flight through hyperspace.  Jaina knew from personal experience just how boring hyperspace travel was normally– hyperspace travel in a starfighter was twice as dull.  She didn't envy Jag his uneventful two days.

            And yet she made no move to follow Kyp into a Jedi trance.

            She stared out at the twisting strands of hyperspace.  

            There was too much to think about, too many memories to try and gather close about her, for her to spend two days in hibernation.

-

            The alarm drew her from her thoughts.  With a shaky breath, Jaina reached out and switched it off.  She swallowed, then sent a command for Zero-One to reactivate as she began to prepare to return to realspace.  The tears in her eyes blurred the console before her, so she had to take a minute to wipe them away before she could proceed.  

            Nothing.  Two whole days, and nothing.  Her hands moved mechanically across the controls as she fought to control her emotions.  It had been nearly two whole days of searching her mind, and she hadn't remembered anything.  She had barely slept, only occasionally roused herself to stretch– she had focused every bit of her being on trying to find those memories locked so deeply inside her.

            And had come up with nothing.

            She fought the despair, but it was so hard for her to push through it.  She couldn't seem to stop crying– the alarm had told her that her time was up, and her memories were no nearer than they had been.

            She wanted to curl up into a little ball and ignore the call to return to realspace, to simply let the destination flash by her as a little streak of starlight, and huddle in her cockpit until, somewhere halfway past the galaxy, she remembered.  She wanted to sit and cry until she had no tears left.  She wanted to rage and fight and destroy something, show some proof that she could still make something happen the way she wanted.  She wanted to shout and whimper and disappear and prove that she was still alive.

            She wanted to go to her father and have him hug her and tell her that she was her daddy's girl and everything would be all right.  She wanted her mother to look at her with that confident, proud smile she treasured, the one that let Jaina know she was someone worth being proud of.  She wanted her brothers– both of them– to be grinning down at her with that ridiculous joy of being taller than her, glad to see her and tease her and be with her.  She wanted her uncle to give her that slow, easy smile that meant he was glad she'd succeeded.  She wanted her aunt to appraise her with cool green eyes, only to have the eyes lighten and approval grace her features.  She wanted her family to be there, reminding her that they, at least, were pleased she was there.  She wanted them to still approve of her, still enjoy being with her.

            She wanted Kyp to hold her tight and tell her he wasn't going anywhere.  

            Her breathing hitched and came out on a sob, and Jaina forced herself to stop shaking, forced herself to take a steady breath, then another.  She began the breathing exercises her uncle had taught to her so many years ago that they had become habit.  Never before had they seemed so hard; never before had it seemed so impossible to regulate the simple reality of _inhale, exhale_.

            The despair lessened imperceptibly as she brought herself under control.  Another breath, and she was able to wipe the last traces of tears from her eyes.  Four more breaths, and she ordered her mind and calmed her thoughts, so that Kyp wouldn't be able to reach out and simply feel her mood.

            Five thoughts later, and Jaina ended her breathing exercise on a long sigh, and reached out and dropped herself back into subspace.

            Kyp and Jagged once again flew protectively at her sides, as the swirling stars separated into individual threads and froze into pinpricks of light against the darkness of space.  Before her hung a jewel-like planet, green and blue and white, lush and gorgeous and approaching quickly.  Zonama Sekot.  Around it hovered a small fleet of ships Jaina didn't recognize, but her board quickly identified them as coralskippers, worldships, and half a dozen other names that made some part of her associate with adrenaline and reflexes and smoke and fear.

            "Nice to see you two again," Jag drawled out.  "While you two have been meditating on the nature of the universe, I've been bored out of my mind."

            Jaina smiled weakly at that.  "Hey, the universe is complicated," she managed, hoping her voice was light enough and the comm channel weak enough that her tears weren't as obviously audible.

            But no, the Force had other plans.

            "Jaina, are you all right?"

            She winced.  "I'm fine, Kyp.  A little disoriented, is all."

            "If you say so," he said dubiously after a minute.  She felt him reach out for her, and nimbly shoved all traces of tears and depression far from her mind as she let his Force-presence caress up against hers.

            Then, as a harsh voice in heavily accented Basic welcomed them and began issuing simple instructions for landing, she felt his presence change from gentle reassurance to tense query.

            _Jaina?  What happened?_

            She swallowed, and even as the three of them began their approach toward the planet's atmosphere, sent back weakly, _Nothing.  Don't worry_.

            _Too late.  I'm worrying.  What happened?_

            She took a deep breath.  She didn't want to be weak, didn't want to reveal how much her lack of memories hurt her. _Just a little overwhelmed_, she managed. _Don't worry_.

            Jag said something and she replied, but even to herself her voice sounded hollow and lacking.  She concentrated on pulling herself together, on making herself strong and complete once more, on pushing everything she lacked, all the memories she desperately missed, to the very edges of her consciousness.

            They landed in silence, both men probably realizing that she was in no state for banter.  The landing field was simply that, a field– greenish-blue grass and small brush.  There were five figures standing on one edges of it; Jaina only allowed herself a quick glance in their direction.  Two blonde human women and three Vong, but she didn't gather more details than that.  As she pressed up on her canopy and heard it hiss and depressurize, the five began to move toward the three landed craft.

            Jaina wasn't allowed to dwell on them any longer, for her canopy was open.  She climbed out of her seat, felt her muscles protest as they were forced to move, and dropped to the ground of Sekot with none of her usual grace.  As she recovered, she swayed for a moment, dizzy from too much motion after too long a period of stillness.  Black crept into her sight, and as the tunnel vision cleared, she made out Kyp Durron striding toward her, face set and grim.

            "You really don't remember much, do you?" he growled out, not bothering to stop as he neared her.  He reached her and pulled her into a tight embrace, one she was only too glad to return.  "Any time you tell me not to worry, I worry."

            "I'm sorry," she said, sternly telling herself that she wasn't going to cry again.  Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tightened them, pressing herself against him.  His hands were gentle on her back, his arms strong and shielding around her.

            Jaina shut her eyes and let him hold her, hoping that somehow his strength would flow into her.

            And it helped.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	19. Chapter 19

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 18 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

Tahiri's steps slowed and finally faltered to a stop.  Danni halted beside her; behind her, Harrar's guards paused as Harrar himself came to stand behind her.  By some tacit agreement, they waited in silence just a few meters from the three fighters.  It gave Tahiri time to compose herself.

            Seeing Jaina was a shock.  To Tahiri, Jaina had always been strong and confident.  Even after the disaster of the Myrkr mission, Jaina had never questioned her choices.  She knew her goals and did just about anything to achieve them.  Even her fall to the Dark Side hadn't diminished her at all, hadn't made her lose any of that perpetual strength she seemed to exude.  If anything, that brush with darkness had made her more of a force to be reckoned with, more dangerous, more edgy and confident.  She had learned what she could do and what she wouldn't do, and that knowledge had been what had made her such an effective fighter and leader.  She knew just how far she could push herself.

            Never before had Tahiri looked at Jaina and seen vulnerability, seen fragility.

            Tahiri's relationship with Jaina was an odd one.  She supposed, in a distant universe where the Yuuzhan Vong had never entered their galaxy, that she might have been Jaina's sister-in-law.  That thought felt a bit foreign, a bit rusty from disuse.  The simplest way to define their relationship, in Tahiri's mind, was _us-hrok_.  What she'd said years ago granting that bond to Jaina was still true.  What had her words been?  She cast about in her memory, and it didn't take long to find the speech she was looking for.  It had been one of the first things she had said as _herself_, not as simply Tahiri or Riina, but as _herself._

            _"I will be grateful to you forever, Jaina Solo, sister of the one I loved.  I will always consider you family, and will protect you with my life.  I vow this on my honor, with all my strength."_

            A bit dramatic, even for her, but that was the gist of things.  Jaina had been granted _us-hrok_, and that was a debt– a promise– Tahiri would not ignore.

            As a girl in the Temple Academy, Tahiri had looked on Jaina with something very near hero-worship.  Jaina was older– old enough to have a lightsaber– and even at the Academy she had been known as a good mechanic and better pilot.  Anakin had envied his older sister her adventures flying, and so a bit of that envy had rubbed off onto Tahiri.  Added into that all the stories of his older siblings, and Tahiri had quite an admiration for both Jacen and Jaina.  She and Anakin used to talk about it, in the lazy afternoons when there was nothing to do but sit on the Temple and dream.  Anakin would tell her of whatever latest adventure the twins and their friends had survived, and he would assure her that someday, when they were a bit older, they'd be able to go off with the twins and be a part of those older, oh-so-different adventures.  They'd all be Jedi together, traveling the galaxy like bringers of light, saving worlds and defending the innocent.

            A rather bittersweet smile curved the corners of Tahiri's mouth.  It had been a child's dream, a simplistic wish for a perfect future.  But then they _had_ grown just a bit older, and they _had_ gone off on their different, new and adult adventures.  

            And everything had changed, and all their dreams had shattered.

            The adventures, while always perilous, had never been so dangerous.  Things never seemed to work out right in the end.  Things had changed.  People had changed.  

            Tahiri herself would never be the same, but sometimes it was the strangest to look back on the others and see how they had changed.  Master Skywalker, now a father and head of the High Council.  Jacen Solo, introspective, quiet, and with an understanding of the Force that dwarfed even Anakin's strength.  The war had changed them all.  Anakin had gone from being that dreaming teenager to a master strategian in under a year.  Jaina, from a carefree girl to a battle-hardened veteran of too many fights, too many losses.  Jag, from a–

            She stopped, and deliberately reached back and tucked her hair behind her ears.  Jag had gone from a non-entity, someone she didn't even know except by his connection to Jaina, to a friend and supporter and then to someone all too formal, all too distant.

            She wouldn't think on more than that, wouldn't let herself wonder why.  It never cheered her up.

            She crossed her arms as the wind picked up.  Beside her, Danni finally spoke, voice soft and cultured even after years of living among beings whose grasp of Basic was rudimentary at best.  "Jaina doesn't look well," Danni observed quietly.

            "No," Tahiri agreed.  "She doesn't."

            Jaina was the strong one, the one who had helped put her together again when her Tahiri-part and her Riina-part were warring for control.  She was the one who was the bulwark of strength in troubled times, the one who, for all her earlier problems with her mother, Tahiri had never before seen as anything but sturdy.

            But this Jaina...  This Jaina looked small and tired, and she clung to Kyp as though the next strong gust of wind would blow her away.  This Jaina was worn out, something the war had never completely managed to do to her.  This Jaina was too thin and fragile, too weak and needy to truly be the Jaina Tahiri knew.

            Then again, this might not truly be the Jaina Tahiri had known.  This Jaina had no memories of what they had shared, the long talks and the close friendship.  

            It was strange to look at Jaina and feel older.  It was strange to think of Jaina as weak, as needing support and protection.  It was strange to think that she– Tahiri– could provide it.  And she would.  She was a friend.  Jaina had offered support before; this was Tahiri's time to repay her.

            Jag approached the two, and put a hand on Jaina's shoulder, murmuring something too low for Tahiri to make out.  Whatever he said, Kyp's arms loosened, though it was a minute before Jaina reluctantly pulled away from him.  He brushed at her face– tears?  Had Jaina been crying?  Tahiri reached out with the Force, felt strong shields, and didn't try to penetrate further.  Besides, Jaina had turned about to face her, Kyp and Jag moving to either side of her, eerily similar in their protective stances.

            It took them less than a minute to cross out of the shade provided by the trio of fighters, and then they came up to stand before the welcoming group.

            Tahiri pushed all her thoughts of how lost, how worn, Jaina looked to the back of her mind, stepped forward, and hugged the older woman.

            "It's good to see you again," she said.  "Even if the circumstances, um, leave a bit to be desired."

            That brought a trace of a smile to Jaina's face.  "Yeah," she said simply, and returned the embrace.  She held Tahiri at arm's length and studied her for a long minute.  Tahiri suddenly felt as though the scars on her forehead were glowing bright and obvious, that the pendent of Yun-Ne'Shel she had taken to wearing was suddenly garish and overly large.

            But her worries were unfounded, for Jaina's smile spread further, into something that resembled a real smile, and she said simply, "You're a bit taller than I remember."

            Tahiri's infectious grin spread before she could stop it.  "That's not the half of it.  Anyway, I don't know how much Kyp and Jag have told you, but this is Danni Quee and Harrar..."

            "They've reminded me a bit," Jaina said, voice still a bit too soft for it to really be the Jaina Tahiri remembered.  Still, Jaina turned to Danni with her smile still in place, then paused.  "Do I give you a hug or shake your hand?"

            "Either works," Danni said, and Jaina stepped forward and hugged the taller woman.  "And don't worry about it, it's not your fault.  We'll have a talk about things when you're rested, and you can ask all the questions you want."

            Jaina nodded.  "Thanks," she said, and moved to stand before Harrar.  "Somehow I don't think I'd give you a hug."

            The Yuuzhan Vong priest merely tilted his scarred head to study her.  "You did so, once," he said in his gravelly voice.  "It was a rather unusual experience.  I can't say I would like for you to repeat it."  He reached forward, and misshapen fingers touched her cheek with a gentleness that was nearly reverent.  "Welcome back, Ve-Harla."

            Jaina's eyes flickered with confusion, and Tahiri spoke quickly to assuage it.  "Ve-Harla is what some Yuuzhan Vong call you," she explained swiftly.  "It means you're an avatar of Yun-Harla."

            Harrar nodded, and let his battered fingers slowly trace their way down Jaina's face.  It was a good sign, in Tahiri's mind, that Jaina didn't flinch away from the gesture.  Some part of her recognized that this was a kind of ritual, a kind of familiar action, and so some part of her deep inside remembered that Harrar had done this before.  That meant that some part of Jaina was still the Jaina Tahiri knew and recognized, not this shaken and troubled version that Tahiri was a bit unsure of.

            Harrar dropped his hand, and turned to Jaina's escorts. "Warrior Jedi Master Durron, consort of Ve-Harla," he said stiffly.  "Your presence here is welcomed.  And Warmaster Colonel Fel, shieldmate of Ve-Harla.  Your presence here is welcomed."  And there was a hint of something in the priest's voice that suggested that their presence would be required, that they were there as more than companions– they were to be defenders.  He gestured behind him, and the two warriors instantly stepped forward and made deep, reverent bows to Jaina.  "Warriors Avaan Tsal and Qetlong Hret have earned the honor of serving you, Ve-Harla."

            Jaina looked down at the kneeling warriors, and that part of her that Tahiri remembered surfaced for an instant.  It was as though the warriors had triggered something; she stepped forward and placed a hand on each warrior's head.  In perfect Yuuzhan, she said cooly, "I accept your service, warriors.  Rise and perform your duty."

            Avaan and Qetlong both rose swiftly and moved toward her.  Jag and Kyp stepped out of the way; the two Yuuzhan Vong warriors replaced them on either side of her.  

            But the Jaina Tahiri recognized was gone as soon as the words had come so precisely, so correctly, from her mouth.  Instead, the lost Jaina turned frightened brown eyes to Kyp, and whispered, "How did I do that?"

            Kyp reached out and took her hand.  "I don't know.  But soon, Goddess.  Soon."

            "Soon," Jaina repeated.  "I want to remember."

            Then Harrar surprised Tahiri.  He came forward and took Jaina's face between his hands, forcing her to look directly up at him.  Her hand spasmed around Kyp's for a second before it relaxed, and Jaina seemed to be holding her breath.

            Harrar studied her face for a long minute, then released her.  She still stared up at him, confused, and when Harrar spoke, it was in such a quiet voice that Tahiri, standing less than a meter away, could barely hear him.

            "The Cloaked Goddess is capricious, Ve-Harla.  You of all people should know that.  She plays her tricks on everyone without discrimination, for that is how she teaches us.  Who are you to say that this is not one of her tricks?"

            Jaina merely looked at him, gaze wide and troubled, but Harrar was not finished yet.  The priest looked down his torn nose at her, and Tahiri was surprised by the compassion she saw within his eyes– compassion from a Yuuzhan Vong priest was a rare emotion.

            "This is only one of Yun-Harla's tricks," Harrar said quietly.  "What is the lesson she wants you to learn?"

            "I don't know," Jaina said after a pause.

            Harrar nodded, satisfied.  "I suggest you find it," he said.  "She never plays a trick for no reason.  She does not see with the Creator's eyes for nothing.  You have a lesson you need to learn, Ve-Harla.  The Goddess has seen it fit to trick you into finding the answer."  

            He stepped back.  "Memory is, after all, one of the things easiest for Yun-Harla to shape.  Why she has removed yours, I do not know.  If she will let it regrow again within you, I do not know.  But no trick from the Trickster is ever without meaning or purpose.  Find the lesson needed, and you will find your answers."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	20. Chapter 20

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 19 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1 "I don't want to go to sleep," Jaina said stubbornly.

            Kyp pressed against her shoulder and forced her to lie back down on the bed.  Still, he couldn't keep his lips from curving in a smile.  "I don't think you've taken quite that tone with me since you were four or five.  You need to sleep, Jaina.  You're worn out."

            "I'm not."  She struggled against his hand for a moment, and finally collapsed back against the pillows.  "All right, maybe I am.  But it's my first day here.  I shouldn't land and then hide away for eight hours."

            "Twelve," Kyp corrected her.  "You're sleeping for twelve hours if I have to put you into a trance."

            She glared up at him and crossed her arms, but remained lying prone when he removed his hand from her shoulder.  "It's not polite."

            "So?"

            A grin twitched across her face for the briefest second, and then was gone again.  Seeing her smile die so quickly made something inside him ache.  Kyp reached out and brushed her hair away from her temples.  "You need to sleep, Goddess.  You're worn so thin we can practically see through you.  It's not healthy."

            "I just want to remember," she whispered, and her eyes slid shut.  "I'm tired of wondering what it was like, what I was like, how I felt about things.  I don't want to do something without thinking about it and suddenly realize that my body remembers something my mind doesn't."  Her eyelids opened partway, and her brown eyes were shining with tears beneath them.  "I don't deserve this, Kyp.  Do I?"

            "No one deserves this," he reassured her, stroking her hair.  "And once you've had sleep, we'll go off and see if I can help at all.  It'll be three weeks tomorrow, Jaina.  Tomorrow I'll try and help you remember."

            She shut her eyes.  "It seems like it's been longer than three weeks," she said softly.  There was a long pause, and then Jaina uncrossed her arms and rolled onto her side facing him.  Without opening her eyes, she reached for and found his hand.  "We were supposed to be married today, weren't we?" she asked.

            A lump rose in his throat.  "Yeah," he said.  "We were."

            Her fingers tightened against his.  "I'm sorry," she murmured, and was silent for a long time.  Her breathing began to even out, and Kyp was about to release her hand and leave when she spoke again.  "Kyp?"

            "Yeah?"

            "What was it supposed to be like?" she asked, and her voice was beginning to slur with exhaustion.

            Carefully, Kyp eased himself down to sit beside her on the bed, letting her keep his hand in hers.  "Small, all things considered," he said after a moment.  "Your mother planned it.  Your uncle was going to preform the ceremony– it was going to be the Jedi ceremony that he and Mara had all those years ago, remember?"

            "Mm-hm.  With the rocks."

            "Yeah," he agreed.  "With the rocks.  You wanted General Darklighter to officiate the legal part of it, so we were going to do both ceremonies at the same time.  Your whole family would be there– even Tahiri was planning on coming out to see it, and that's a long trip, remember?"  His voice had softened, quieted, and he wondered if she was really listening to his words.  

            "Yeah."

            "You wanted Han to give you away, and he kept threatening that he wouldn't be able to do it.  You kept teasing him about that."  He couldn't stop from smiling, and he brushed his thumb across the skin of her hand.  "Mara kept joking that the reception was going to be the worst part– Jedi and pilots and Chiss and politicians all in the same room.  She was going to speak for you at the wedding."

            "Who was going to speak for you?" Jaina wondered.

            "Kam Solusar," Kyp told her.  "And Han and Leia.  And you asked Mara and Lowie and Jag to speak for you."

            A slow smiled spread across her face, and stayed.  "Jag must have been thrilled," she murmured.

            "That's one word for it."  She was nearly asleep.  "Everyone wondered what you were going to wear," he continued, hoping that she would drop off soon.  "Han wanted you to wear something Corellian, and Leia was hoping you'd wear something Alderaanian.  You got fed up with everything and went off on your own and came back saying you'd taken care of it, but you never told us what you were going to wear."

            "No?"  The word was more of an exhalation than an actual statement.

            "No.  You didn't even tell me.  Leia's given up asking you about it because you always are so secretive about it.  She's worried you're going to show up to your own wedding wearing black."

            Her eyes fluttered open and gazed directly into his for a long moment.  "Blue," she said clearly, and then her eyes drifted shut and her breathing evened out.

            Kyp stared down at her for a moment.  Blue?  Had she somehow remembered that on her own?  Had her exhaustion broken down some of the barriers that kept her memories from her?  He couldn't even tell if the memory was a true one– he hadn't lied to her; he had no idea what she had planned to wear on her wedding.  But if she had remembered...

            Kyp sternly pushed the thought of Jaina radiant in a blue dress to the back of his mind, and pulled his hand away from hers.  He brought it up to her forehead, smoothed back the loose strands of brown hair he found there, and hesitated.  She wouldn't thank him for it– she'd most likely be furious with him for it– but she needed her rest.

            Twelve hours, Kyp thought, and rested his fingertips against her right temple.  Reaching out through the Force, he easily sent her into a healing trance.  Her mind had been open to his, unguarded and unshielded from him, and it was all to easy for him to slip inside and order her thoughts together to send her deeper into sleep.  Twelve hours, and she would wake up and be furious with him for forcing her to rest– but she would be rested.

            He bent and kissed her forehead, then heaved himself to his feet.  He made his way to the window and pulled curtains across it, blocking the light.  Of course, the curtains appeared to be moving on their own, and the window itself seemed like very thinly stretched skin, but Kyp had flown Stubborn for years now, and Sekotian– or Vong– biotechnology no longer startled him.  He stepped through the door and shut it behind him, then turned to the guard standing beside it.

            "Jaina's going to be sleeping for a while," he said, and the male– Avaan, Kyp thought– nodded and moved to stand before the door.

            "She shall not be disturbed.  I will await your return."

            "Thank you," Kyp said, and quickly turned away and moved toward the conference area.  Jaina never seemed to have any problem dealing with the Vong, and if doing so had ever given her an odd moment, she hadn't shown it.  Kyp, on the other hand, felt distinctly uneasy each time he remembered that he had spent the better part of five years trying to kill– and not be killed by– members of the same species.

            The conference area was a small ring of trees encircling an open, grassy flat with a jumble of rocks and gnarled stumps haphazardly strewn about it.  Tahiri sat on one of the stumps, arms around her knees and bare feet neatly tucked together.  Danni had chosen a high flat rock for her perch, and was dangling her legs from her vantage point.  Jag, unsurprisingly, stood rather stiffly to the side, obviously part of the group and just as obviously uncomfortable.

            They had been talking, but as he approached, the speech broke off.

            "She's sleeping," he said, knowing that their talk had been of Jaina.  "I've put her in a trance.  She needs to rest."

            Tahiri's lips twitched.  "She won't like that when she wakes up."

            "She needs to rest," Kyp repeated, and chose a tall rock between Jag and Danni to lean against.  He waited a moment, but when no one else said anything, he continued, "I promised her that we'd try to find some of her memories tomorrow.  I don't know how that's going to work, but I promised her, and she needs to be doing something or she'll get worse."

            "It's eating her up," Danni said quietly, pulling her legs up onto the rock and rolling onto her stomach.  Her feet crossed in the air behind her, and she propped her head onto one of her hands to look down at him.  "How bad is it?"

            Kyp sighed and leaned back until the back of his head touched the rock.  "She doesn't remember anything beyond a few days after her sixteenth birthday," he said.  "But what's worse is that she knows she should.  She says it's like having a bunch of flitters constantly dancing around her head, but every time she reaches out to swat one, it's gone.  You can tell she's trying.  You'll say something or do something, and her eyes will light up and she'll know that it's somehow connected together, but she won't be able to plot the course to find it."

            "Has she remembered anything since she woke up?" Tahiri asked, the girl uncharacteristically quiet.

            He sighed.  "Bits and pieces of things.  She's still got a strong physical memory– she entered the code for our door without me telling her, but when I sat her down in front of it and tried to get her to do it again, she couldn't.  Stuff like that.  Nothing that she considers important."  The sun was slowly dying, setting the clouds around it aflame.  "Sometimes she'll remember little things, like that Ben has red hair or that Jag doesn't like caf, but most of the time, that's without trying."

            "It's driving her mad," Jag said softly.  "She never gets something by trying for it– only sometimes, when she doesn't try to remember."

            Kyp shut his eyes against the bright colors of the sunset.  "I'll try to help her tomorrow," he said.  "But I don't know if it'll do any good.  She's hanging so much hope on me being able to help her, and if I can't..."

            The silence stretched on, and then Danni sighed and rolled over, slid off her rock, and came up to him.  "Come on, Kyp," she said firmly.  "You're not doing her any good sitting her and worrying about this.  You're going to eat something and then go to sleep."

            He opened his eyes and glared mildly at her.  Her blonde hair was tousled from the light wind; she was still slim and tall.  It was easy to see why Jacen had fallen for her; in her own way, she was as practical as he was.  "Danni," he began, but she held up a hand.

            "No arguments," she said, and she reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his rock and his contemplations.  "You're going to eat and then you're going to sleep.  You may be a high and mighty Jedi Master, but even you need some sense drilled into you.  And since Jaina's currently out of it, I'll take my big-sisterly prerogative and drill some sense into you for her.  Coming?"

            "I thought _Tahiri_ was Jaina's claimed-sister."  But still, Kyp allowed himself to be pulled forward.  He had been a bit skeptical of the three when, years earlier, they had declared themselves claimed-sisters –whatever that was– after spending two weeks alone with each other on the far side of Sekot.  Whatever experience they'd gone through– and Kyp considered it some kind of female bonding experience better left unknown– they'd emerged filthy, laughing, stronger in the Force and the best of friends, and had promptly declared that they had claimed each other as sisters.  Thus, claimed-sisters.

            Kyp had long since given up trying to figure them out.  Danni had helped Jaina grow up a bit; he knew that much.  Tahiri had nudged Jaina closer to her mother.  Whatever the original idea, Kyp figured that Danni was going to marry Jacen and Tahiri would have married Anakin, so claimed-sisters, he figured, was close enough to sisters-in-law.

            Danni tugged again.  "Tahiri is Jaina's _little_ claimed-sister.  I'm her _big_ claimed-sister.  That means I get to boss you around and Tahiri gets to sympathize."

            "Is that how it works, then?" Kyp asked, turning to Tahiri.

            Her grin was infectious and somehow reassuring.  "That's how it works.  Poor Kyp, being bossed around by Danni.  See, I'm sympathizing."

            He laughed and left Tahiri with Jag and followed Danni.

            Danni led him into a brightly lit room filled with something sweet-smelling and the strange chatter of Sekotans, and forced him to fill his plate and sit down at one of the tables.

            "Eat," she ordered.  "Or Jaina will kill me for letting you run yourself ragged worrying over her."

            She turned to leave, and Kyp reached out quickly and grabbed her hand.  "Hey," he said, and waited to meet her eyes.  "Thanks."

            She only grinned at him.  "You're welcome," she said.  "Stop stalling.  Eat and then go back to Jaina.  And you better sleep, or I'll have Tahiri put you into a trance yourself."

            He only grinned.  "Jacen doesn't know what he's getting into, does he?" he asked.

            Her smile stretched wider.  "That's the general idea."  She slid into the seat across from him.  "I hope you don't mind.  I'm going to hide in here until Tahiri and Jag actually talk."

            Kyp swallowed something best left unidentified.  "Tahiri and Jag?  Why do they need to talk?"

            Danni looked pityingly at him.  "Oh yes, I forgot.  You're a man and therefore blind to this sort of thing."

            Kyp nearly choked.  "'This sort of thing'?" he repeated incredulously.  "Between Tahiri and _Jag_?"

            Danni's eyes were dancing.  "Does that explain a few things?" she asked mischievously.

            "You," Kyp said, pointing a finger at her.  "Explain.  Now."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	21. Chapter 21

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 20 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Tahiri couldn't help but grin.  "That's how it works."  She changed her tone of voice to one of sweet innocence.  "Poor Kyp, being bossed around by Danni."  Then she grinned again.  "See, I'm sympathizing."

            Kyp laughed, and Danni took that opportunity to drag him off towards a full meal.

            Leaving her alone with one Jagged Fel.

            Tahiri took a deep breath, then deliberately turned toward him.  It was stupid to feel nervous; she had no reason to feel nervous.  So she said the first thing that came to mind.

            "He's worn out almost as bad as Jaina is."

            Not the best way to start a conversation, Tahiri figured, but at least it was a start.  Jag seemed to agree.  He sighed and uncrossed his arms.  "It's hard on him," he said.  "If she hadn't lost her memory, they'd be getting married today."

            Tahiri shut her eyes.  "It seems like it would almost be kinder for her to have died," she said softly.  "That way he'd be able to mourn her and learn to live with what he missed, rather than having to wake up day after day with her still here and out of his reach."

            "Would that really be easier?" Jag asked.  "Would he really be able to simply mourn her and move on?  Or would she haunt him for the rest of his life?"

            The conversation was skating perilously close to personal ground, but Tahiri opened her eyes and forced herself to continue speaking.  She had started it, after all.  "Both, I think," she said.  "He'd move on.  Little things would hurt and remind him of her, but there would have been that sense of closure, that finality of death.  He would be able to get over the loss."

            She sensed, in the pause before he spoke, what he would say.  "And you know this from personal experience?"

            She wrapped her arms around her more for comfort than for warmth.  "I loved Anakin.  I always will love Anakin.  He was my first friend at the Academy, and my first love.  But he's gone.  He died partly so that I wouldn't.  It's not fair to him to simply sit around and mope about being left behind.  I survived losing him."  She let out a rather shaky breath and stared up at the just-emerging stars, shining bright through the darkening grey of nightfall.  "Little things still hurt.  I'll see something and think, 'Anakin would have liked that', or I'll go exploring and find a cave and wonder how long it would have taken him to have it completely mapped out.  Little things.  We'll have pouri for breakfast and I'll remember that he hated it.  And it'll hurt to know I'm still here without him.  But I survived, Jag."

            "Did you."  It was more statement than question; she had the feeling that she hadn't answered enough to satisfy him.  Still, for once, she remained quiet.  She had nothing left to say.

            The night sky had deepened into black, and the stars were fully out, before Jag spoke again.  "I think you're wrong," he said.

            "About what?"

            "About it being kinder if she had died.  If she died, she'd be gone, and he wouldn't have anything left of her.  This way, even if she's not quite the same as she was before, she's still here."  His eyes, uncannily green and bright in the darkness, glanced over at her.  "He still loves her.  He still can look up and see her, he can still know that somewhere she's safe.  She's still there for him, even if she's not his."

            Something in his eyes made her want to shiver, and so she asked quietly, "Are you going to marry her?"

            He blinked, and Tahiri had the satisfaction of seeing Jag completely confused.  It was hard enough for her to make the man react, to show emotion, but confusion was perhaps the emotion he was best able to cover. _Seeing_ him admit to confusion was a rare pleasure.  "Where did that come from?"

            So she had been wrong.  She felt her cheeks color and was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush.  "You sounded like you were talking from experience," she said quickly, "and I know you loved Jaina, and now that she doesn't remember Kyp I thought maybe you and her would get back together, and that's why she wouldn't be Kyp's and how he'd still be able to see her and everything, and–"

            "Wait, slow down."  Jag stepped forward and changed his position, so that he was now sitting on the rock directly opposite her stump.  His mouth was twitching into a smile.  "I can't understand you when you speed-talk."

            "Anakin never could either," she said, then winced.  "Sorry."

            "All right," Jag said, and now she could hear the amusement in his voice.  "First of all, no, I'm not going to marry Jaina, and I don't think I would if she asked me.  She's still going to marry Kyp."

            Tahiri blinked.  "She is?  But if she doesn't remember–"

            Jag interrupted her again.  "She fell in love with him before, so what's stopping her from doing it again?"

            She considered that for a long moment, then asked, "Do they still love each other?"

            Jag looked down at his hands, and replied without looking at her.  "Kyp still loves her.  You only have to look at him to see that.  Jaina..." he hesitated.  "Jaina doesn't remember specifically loving him, but bits and pieces of it are fitting together.  She told me a few days into hyperspace that she doesn't sleep well away from him, and that she's comfortable with him.  She said that she agreed to marry him still because she believed that he had made her happy, and that she's selfish and still wants that happiness."  His eyes raised up to hers again.  "I think she loves him still, but she's a bit too confused to know if that's the new or the old Jaina loving him."

            "It makes sense, I guess," Tahiri said slowly.  "And I'm glad she is still with Kyp.  It means-" _"-that she's not with you-"_ "-that on some subconscious level, she remembers what's right."

            "I suppose so."  

            They sat in silence for a while longer; Tahiri's tongue nearly ached from the effort to hold it still, to not fill the silence with chatter.  Jagged was usually quiet and she was usually loud, but it seemed that when the two of them were together, they managed to create an average level of noise.  But these long silences still sometimes puzzled her; it was as if he were perfectly content to simply stand in her presence and do nothing.

            She sighed, uncurled, and stood unsteadily on stiff legs.  Jag moved smoothly, with a fighter pilot's speed, to keep her upright.  "Thanks," she said, feeling somehow awkward, very aware of his hand on her elbow, at how close he was.

            "You're welcome," he said, and released her. 

            "I think I'm going to go find a snack myself," she said, stepping back and stretching.  "Want to come?"

            He shook his head, and took his seat once more on his rock.  "No, I think I'll stay out in the open for a bit longer."

            "Suit yourself."  

            She was halfway across the conference area when he called out to her.  "Tahiri?"

            She paused and turned to look at him.

            "For the record, I _was_ talking from personal experience."

            Tahiri stared at Jag for a long moment, and then to hide the emotion that had suddenly welled up, she turned her back on him without a reply and continued walking until she was out of the conference ring.  Then she let her feet fly faster and faster, until her bare soles ached from the pressure of pounding into the earth, and she ran across the field toward nothing, trying to escape the outpouring of hope that she had no right to feel.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	22. Chapter 22

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 22 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Jaina lay in bed for a long moment, considering.  Kyp was a warm and solid presence at her back, his arms draped possessively around her, his breath feathering the hair at her temple.  It was nice, waking to this, knowing that she was safe and secure in the arms of a man who loved her.

            Even if the man was a sneak and a liar.  He'd put her into a trance.  She knew he had.  But somehow, she wasn't as furious as she had the feeling she should be.  She should poke him in the side and make him wake up so that she could inform him that he had no right to put her into a trance and that he shouldn't have done so.

            Instead, she twisted in his arms to look at him.  He looked worn, she realized with a start.  Tired, old.  She lifted her hand and brushed her fingers against the grey-shot hair falling onto his face, then traced the wrinkles around his eyes, the laugh lines by his mouth.

            Part of her was wailing that Kyp was only forty-one and shouldn't look so old, and another part of her– the part that was still convinced she was still sixteen– was wondering why on earth she had agreed to marry a man sixteen years older than her.  But that voice was dwindling, growing smaller and smaller, and Jaina let her fingers trail along Kyp's cheek and waited for that voice to grow silent.

            He didn't deserve this. 

            She sighed, shut her eyes, and burrowed closer to him.  It was hard for him; she knew that.  It wasn't his fault that she couldn't remember anything, and yet he was worried about it just as much as she.  And no one thought to worry over him.

            Without opening her eyes, Jaina let her fingertips pause over his forehead and quickly ordered her thoughts.  A quick nudge through the Force, and his breathing slowed, deepened, and a bit of the tension that seemed ever-present in his face – even in sleep – vanished.

            Turnabout was fair play, after all.  He put her into a trance, she put him into a trance.  He needed it just as much as she.

            She untangled herself from Kyp's arms, and dressed quickly.  She opened the door and shut it quietly behind her, leaving Kyp to his rest, and turned to regard the warrior standing guard outside the door.

            "I wish to practice," she said, and nearly stopped in panic when she realized that she was speaking Yuuzhan rather than Basic.  But she grimly propelled herself forward before she could think too much about it and lose her ability.  "Can you take me to a place suitable?"

-

            To her surprise, the place Qetlong guided her to was already occupied.  As she approached, Tahiri turned to greet her, the blue of her lightsaber blade vanishing back into the hilt as she called a greeting.

            "You look much better," the blonde woman said, sounding satisfied.

            Jaina's eyebrows rose.  "And you look worse," she said.  "Are you all right?"

            Tahiri shrugged.  Her eyes looked tired, but her skin was flushed and healthy.  "I needed to work some things out," she explained, and for just a second, Jaina thought that Tahiri's mask slipped and she saw roiling confusion hid behind her eyes.

            "That's what I was hoping to do," Jaina said.  Her hand snaked to the lightsaber at her belt.  "I haven't had a chance to practice since I sparred with Jacen a few days before we left."

            Tahiri's smile grew.  "Want a partner?"  She indicated the practice area with a wave of her hand.  "I'll wait for you to warm up."

            "Thanks."  Jaina unclipped her lightsaber and self-consciously, aware that Tahiri was watching her, moved into the center of the area and paused.

            She shut her eyes and reached for the Force.  It was there, comforting and familiar and welcoming.  But over the last few weeks, she had noticed the differences: the hints of darkness, the tiny threads of shadow intersecting with the great weave of light.  She could reach out and know that the darkness was there ready to accept her.

            But still, the Force hadn't changed at all. _She_ had changed– she was the one who had fallen, and her perception of the world around her had shifted a bit.  Her perception of the Force had widened with that extra knowledge: she knew what there was out there to be afraid of, and it somehow made her stronger.

            Jaina would give up the extra strength to have her view of the Force back to where it had been before: the strength and shining power of good, of the Light Side, untainted by the Dark.  That extra strength wasn't worth the burden of knowing that she had fallen.

            She took a deep breath and dove deeper into the Force.  On her exhale, her finger feathered over a button, and her lightsaber sprung to life.  The familiar _snap-hiss_, the familiar hum of the blade, the familiar throbbing of the hilt in her hand... this was the same, unchanged over the course of ten years.  The rest, she knew, would be both familiar and foreign.  She was a better fighter than she had been, and she didn't remember quite how she knew the moves and strikes that she made, but going through the motions felt so familiar that it was hard to remember that she _didn't_ remember this.

            She opened her eyes and stared unseeing past her violet lightsaber.  Another deep breath, still concentrating on the Force, and she began to move.  Her steps and swings were slow at first, as she focused on the Force rather than on the movement.  A lunge that stretched her legs, and lazy thrust that she turned into a twirling retreat, a slow defense that had her lightsaber weaving through the air before her face.  All calm, all familiar, all movements she had learned so long ago– and yet so recently– from her uncle.

            Satisfied that her connection to the Force was solid, Jaina allowed herself to concentrate more on her moves, and soon began to pick up speed.  Her lightsaber began to take on a mind of its own, spinning and dancing and thrusting as though it controlled her hand.  Jaina knew, in some distant corner of her mind, that she didn't know how to do any of this.  But this had happened when she had sparred with Jacen, and so she managed to ignore the little voice screaming in confusion and concentrate only on the experience.

            She abruptly turned and finished moving, breath still slow and even, lightsaber twisted into a salute, facing Tahiri.

            "I'll take that to mean you're ready," the woman said with a grin, and her own lightsaber ignited, burning white-blue.

            Jaina said nothing; she merely lifted the point of her lightsaber in challenge and waited.

            Tahiri took a cautious step closer, quick flicks of her wrist sending her lightsaber blade spinning in controlled circles.  She thrust forward once, testing, and Jaina easily blocked the blow.  Tahiri stepped back and the two began to circle.

            Jaina didn't know which of them was the better fighter.  Or rather, she amended, she couldn't remember which of them was better.  She was older, but she had spent most of the war in X-wing and Tahiri had spent most of the war on the ground.  So, not knowing her opponent's strength, she automatically took the defensive, parrying Tahiri's strikes quickly and easily.

            On Tahiri's fifth testing strike, Jaina raised her lightsaber, blocked the downward blow, and countered with a low hissing strike of her own.  Tahiri blocked it and struck out again, and the two began to really spar.

            No words were exchanged; none were needed.  Twisting and thrusting and turning and dodging and blocking and striking– the world narrowed down to the fight.  Everything else– the sun filtering down through the large trees surrounding the area, the sudden flight of avians from a nearby bush, the quick burst of warm wind from the south– everything else was secondary.  True, some of the secondary bits were important enough to warrant her attention, but they were granted a quick observation and then logged away in her memory, stored and used almost immediately.  

            _The ground toward the east end is uneven; I'll have to watch her footing.  There is a large rock at the very center of the area; I shouldn't let Tahiri corner me there.  There is a slope toward the back; I should try to finagle Tahiri that direction, so I'll had the advantage of slightly higher ground._  Jaina spun away from a particularly well aimed strike and countered with a low blow that Tahiri avoided by springing a meter or two into the air. _There are trees overhead toward the edges of the area; too near them, and I'll have to consider attacks from above.  Tahiri's left foot moves the second before she attempts a low strike; I'll have to watch it.  There is a small group of people gathering in the north; we should keep well away from them.  Tahiri seems to be able to tell when I'm going strike high; avoid that move until I can figure out how I give myself away._ And then, as the two dodged and cut their way across the uneven east-end ground, _Tahiri's wrist is getting tired; her grip isn't as strong anymore._

            Jaina disengaged from their current quick flurry of blows with a tight flip – which surprised her, as she hadn't thought she'd have been able to do that – and before Tahiri could return to a defensive rather than offensive stance, brought her lightsaber harshly up in a concentrated thrust.  Tahiri raised her lightsaber to block it, and the blow landed just where Jaina had planned it: it hit the first bit of lightsaber blade above the hilt of Tahiri's blade, and the sudden shock of the hit proved too much for Tahiri's tired wrist.  Her grip wasn't strong enough to keep hold of the hilt.  Tahiri's lightsaber went flying out of her hand, blue blade deactivated as soon as contact was lost, and Jaina heard it land somewhere behind her with a soft _thud_.

            Tahiri dropped her hands and Jaina stepped back victorious.  "Well won," Tahiri said.

            "You were already a bit tired coming into it," Jaina observed.  "Someday I want to try a fair fight."

            Tahiri grinned and moved past her to find her lightsaber.  Jaina followed.  "I'll hold you to it."

            "Thanks for the practice," Jaina said, and used the Force to tug Tahiri's lightsaber up to eye level.

            "No, thank you.  I think I've got everything worked out of my system now, so I'm going to go get some sleep."  Tahiri plucked her lightsaber out of the air.

            Jaina glanced up at the morning sun.  "Have you even been to bed yet?"

            Tahiri laughed.  "Nope.  I needed to think for a bit.  And now that I have, I'm off to crash."  Her grin remained.  "But look, I'll bet you can still stay and spar.  Good morning, Master Durron– care to give Jaina a run for her money?  She's a bit too overconfident today."

            "Overconfident?" Jaina scoffed.  "I am not.  One win doesn't make me overconfident."

            "No, but it dents my pride.  Go beat her, Kyp.  Give me something to hang over her head."

            "And how does me beating her give _you_ something to hang over her head?" Kyp asked mildly, coming to a halt before them.

            Tahiri shrugged.  "Logic was never my strong point.  Anyway, I've off to sleep.  See you in a couple of hours."

-

            Jaina was barely breathing heavily, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.  "That's not logic at all," she complained to Tahiri's back, but the younger woman only turned, stuck her tongue out, and continued on.

            Kyp chuckled.  "You're afraid you're going to lose," he taunted.

            Fire kindled somewhere in her eyes, and Kyp felt a little too pleased with himself.  "I'll wait for you to warm up."

            "Oh, I'm fine," he assured her, pulling his lightsaber to his hand.  "You, Goddess, put me into a trance."

            She grinned.  "Yes, I did.  Turnabout's fair play."

            "Since when do you and I play fair?"  And with no other warning, he thumbed his lightsaber to life and lunged at her.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	23. Chapter 23

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 23 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

~

Jaina's lightsaber snapped on and rose up to block his attack in the mere second before his strike would have hit her.  Kyp grinned, proud of her.  Her instincts were still in place, at least.  

            "Should be an easy victory for me," he taunted as he blocked her counter-attack and spun off of it into a low cut at her knees.

            She let loose a curt bark of a laugh.  "In your dreams, Durron," she retorted, and leaped  to avoid his strike.  Her jump turned into a twisting flip as she maneuvered herself around him; even while she was in the air, she lashed out at him.  

            He parried, which required a bit more strength since her blow had the help of her weight and gravity on its side, but he put just enough force into his block to send her a bit off balance.  She landed awkwardly, without dropping into the usual guard stance, and took a precious second to flip backwards away from him and land correctly.

            "Not as good at this as you should be, Goddess," Kyp informed her.  "If I wanted, I could have won by now."

            Annoyance flashed across her face, followed by the faintest flicker of confusion.  But her response didn't seem to match her emotions.  "Lots of talk and no action, Durron," she said, and attacked again.  This time, however, the finesse that she usually fought with was gone, and Kyp found it all too easy to predict her moves, to counter blows before she made them, to know where she would step a moment before she moved.

            Jaina knew it too, and she recognized that he was going easy on her.  "Damn it, Kyp," she snapped, stepping back and shutting down her lightsaber.  "You're not helping."

            Kyp paused, and then his own blade vanished.  "And what am I supposed to be helping with?"

            "Getting me out of what's familiar."

            He blinked, then scowled down at her.  "What?"

            "I fought with Tahiri, and I fought well," she explained, "because I didn't think about it.  I was able to react and I was fighting better than I've ever fought.  Or–"  Here she blinked and gave that soft sigh that meant she had forgotten, honestly forgotten, that she wasn't sixteen, that she hadn't been at the Academy a few days ago.  "–Or at least I don't remember fighting this well.  Ever. If I don't think about it, I can do it.  You're not even trying to make me fight... you're just sort of putting up with it.  It's familiar, and so I can't remember.  Does that make sense?"

            Kyp considered.  "Almost.  You remember things when you're forced out of your depth?"

            Again, that exasperated sigh.  "I suppose so.  And you're not challenging me at all, you're just sort of letting me work my frustrations out.  Which I appreciate, but it's not what I'm trying for."

            "Fair enough," he admitted, and spun his lightsaber thoughtfully.  "Want another go?"

            "A real one this time," she demanded.

            "Yeah," and he couldn't help the feral smile that was spreading across his face.  "A real one.  You realize that I've been fighting with you, for all intents and purposes, for ten years, so I'll know all your moves, but you don't have that same experience to draw on anymore.  It's unfair advantage."

            A ghost of a smile was his only answer.  Her lightsaber thrummed to life.  "Where's the fun in fair?" she asked softly, but Kyp had the feeling her words were more directed towards herself than to him.

            When they engaged again, Kyp took the offensive immediately, forcing her to parry and defend and give up ground without the chance to strike back at him.  Any attempt she made to take the upper hand he quickly noticed and beat back.  

            It was strange, sparring with this Jaina.  The Jaina he was used to was more controlled, more experienced.  Here was not the fighting style of someone who had actually fought for her life, but the fighting style of an apprentice.  She was fighting in perfect form, and that alone told Kyp how much trouble she was having falling back into her physical memories.  His Jaina had a style that was much looser, much more flowing than it had been ten years ago.  His Jaina fought with a random precision and intensity that was lacking here.

            This Jaina fought as though she had never been forced to fight for her life.  She fought as though she had never set foot off the Academy... which, he granted, was still impressive, but no longer was she a challenge.

            He began to harass her, flicking his lightsaber through her defenses in lightning-fast strikes that licked dangerously close to her.  He could sense her frustration growing, could feel it in the extra energy that seemed to have infused each of her parries.  She was getting closer; her arms were no longer quite so tense, and her feet were no longer solidly planted in the defensive stance her uncle had taught.  Now she was a bit looser, a bit more mobile, even as her lightsaber only moved in traditional patterns of guard and parry.

            Kyp deliberately taunted her then, with a quick flip over her head and a strike at her back that she normally wouldn't have allowed anywhere near her.  "Losing your touch, Goddess," he mocked, and she spun to counter his next blow, darted past it, and _attacked_.

            The concentration was gone from her face, and Kyp was pleased with himself.  He had pushed her past trying to remember how she should be fighting, and now was actually fighting.  Her body knew the motions if her mind didn't– this was his Jaina.

            Kyp didn't call any attention to it; he'd noticed, earlier, that if he pointed out that she was remembering something, she'd instantly forget.  So he simply switched his methods a bit, and let them circle and flip and strike their way across the practice area, from one side to the other.

            When he heard her breath coming faster, when he saw the muscle tension growing and the slight tremble in her arms when she rose her lightsaber to block his attack, Kyp knew she was close to exhausting herself.  He abruptly stopped, returned his switched-off lightsaber to his belt, and stepped forward.  Jaina was slower to pause than he; she still had her deactivated lightsaber in her hand when his fingers touched her temples.

            Kyp focused his attention and reached out to the Force.  Slipping past the secondary consciousness that was all around him, he found the bond that linked Jaina to him and followed it back to her.

            He'd done this before.  It was an odd experience, to know that he had such total control over another's mind.  Before, he'd used his power here to erase memories, to deliberately tangle information, to force the mind to rewind and not recall hours.  Never before had he tried to reconnect memories.

            Her mind was lightly shielded, but after a second Jaina dropped her shields, as though she'd belatedly realized that he must be trying something.  Exhaustion made her mind heavy and easily influenced, and her surface thoughts were mainly of the fight and so easy to push through.  Her memories were next, the layer small and incomplete.  There was a strange tickling, as though something was fluttering about just underneath the surface of her memories; Kyp reached out with the Force, latched onto the fluttering, and heard Jaina's gasp.

            He retreated quickly, and looked down at her.  Tears were shimmering unshed in her eyes; as soon as his fingers dropped from her forehead, she launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face in his chest.

            "Jaina?" he asked uncertainly, moving his arms around her waist.  He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.  "Jaina, are you all right?"

            "I wondered about that," she said, words muffled against him.  "I wondered if we always bickered back and forth when we fought."  She looked up at him, crying and smiling.  "And we do.  I remembered.  We were someplace warm, and we were sparring, and we were bantering back and forth like we were when we first started fighting today, and Jacen was standing off to one side and calling out suggestions while we sparred."

            Her description seemed familiar; Kyp thought for a moment.  "Was there a statue in the center of the courtyard, and your uncle was sitting there with Ben?"

            Jaina's smile, if possible, spread.  "Yes!  Oh, that's Ben?"  Her entire face softened, and her watery eyes took a far-away look.  "Oh, he's adorable."  She looked up at Kyp then, eyes alight and shining with happiness.  "It was right in the back of my mind and I couldn't catch it," she told him.  "But you did.  Thank you."  And she rocked forward onto her tiptoes and kissed him.  

            Kyp smiled back at her, trailing a hand up her spine to tug on the loose tangled ends of her hair.  "I'm just glad it worked."

            "Me too," Jaina said, and they shifted their weight simultaneously to begin walking back out of the practice area, arms still slung about each other's waists.  "That's two memories, Kyp, two whole memories."

            He tightened his hold on her; she was practically bouncing with each step.  "We'll try again in a bit," Kyp told her.  "But how about we find Jag and find some food?"

            "All right," she agreed.  "I've got two memories, Kyp!"

              He didn't let his smile falter, but he felt his spirits dim.    She was so pleased with so little.

            She didn't deserve this.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


End file.
